I guess you could say the world has always been insane...me, I just went with it. A kid in Minnesota enjoying his life, his only worry was finding a job and gettin' a car. The last thing on my mind was the walking dead. Biologically it shouldnt have happened, it was just too impossible. The Surgeon General had said explicitly that dead flesh could not be reanimated. Sure, there were still electrical impulses in the brain and occasioanlly the body did move after death but not like this...
Lemme start at the begining. My names Austin and I'm 18. When the super flu hit i just figured it was just an overblown virus that would taper off in a few months. Then people began to get sick, really sick. Thats when I began to worry. My dad fianlly brought home paper masks and said that people had started to riot in the city. We waited it out while I kept tabs on my friends. Thankfully noone I knew had got the bug. The riots began to increase and martial law was declared though it didnt do much good. Stores were looted and finally the power failed. The whole state was plunged into total darkness. With food running low me and my father could no longer stay inside. We drove to the local Cub and parked behind the store. We only needed some food, but we ran into some riot cops. Somehow me and my dad knocked em' out. I knew it was for a better purpose but I still felt bad for it. I left the guys each five bucks when my dad wasn't looking. Better than nothing.
The next hour went smoothly as my and my dad both grabbed just the bare essentials. Water, powdered milk, meat and vegetables as well as energy drinks. We ran into other surviviors who were doin' the exact same thing as usThose that gave us trouble stopped when they saw my dads Ruger. We were about to leave when the cops came in with riot gear. Everyone split and we soon tried to run back to the car. I took the betetr part of a shotgun wound to the right leg. My dad dragged me outta there while I screamed and screamed, cursing the cops while blood poured out of my leg. He got me home and took care of me. For a week I lounged and talked to friends and family. Three of my friends were infected and I cried myself to sleep that night. When I felt stronger my dad took me outside and showed my how to shoot his guns. We then sat around the fire and shared in a bottle of vodka my dad had gotten from one of his friends. That was the last great memeory I have, because when we went back inside, everything changed.
It was a news report on the radio. They were talking about zombies. At first I thought it was a joke. Really? Zombies? Come on. But they kept talking about isolated reports and a few escapees at Camp Theresa the more the joke became a reality. They had a couple of scietists start talking about 'reanimated flesh" and "electrical impulse stimulation". Even I could see it was just BS they were pulling out of their asses to make us all feel like they were in control. That night my dad fished out wooded boards and we secured the windows and front door.
I didn't sleep well that night and when I finally did I woke up to a crash. To make the matters worse my dad wasn't home but on a supply and food run. My clock told me it was 4:35 am. I grabbed my gun my dad had given me and crept slowly into the hallway. Nothing. I flicked on my flashlight and turned the corner. There in my kitchen stood a women without any clothes on. She was just standing there until she saw me and I asked her why she was here and she gurgled something and lunged after me. I hesitated and then pulled the trigger. The gun kicked in my hands and her body flew back and hit the wall with an audible crack. I had shot her in the neck and her head hung limply on the last remaining vertebrae the bullet hadn't shattered. She twitched and tried to move but finally the neck broke under the weight of her head and fell off. Her body spasmed then fell silent. I checked the borad she has broken through and found that it hadn't been properly nailed to the frame. I silently chatised myself as I had been the one that had nailed that board in. I looked out side and bile rose up in my throat. There were nine more decaying zombies walking towards my house while in the distance I could see at lest eight more running in my direction. I could see my dads car in the distance as he began to skid and ram into the ones that were running. I began to fire the gun, aiming for the bobbing skulls of the undead. The flash of the muzzle terrfied me as the realization hit that I had just killed someone. Someone who had laughed and cried and felt love and pain and sorrow and pride. Someone who had people who still loved them. Someone exactly like me. When my dad finally got to the house he and I finished the remaining ones off. He turned to me. "Get the supplies and ammo. Its time to leave".
We drove and picked up some of my dads friends. As we passed through the gates out of the city the absence of cops was apparent. No one was going to help us, we were on our own. I was fianlly setting into a restfull sleep when the car suddenly swerved to one side. I awoke to hear my dad swearing and pulling on the wheel while his friends were getting their pistols out. The street was clogged with zombies and people. Some were visibly rotting while others looked perfectly normal. They were the ones who were running and attacking people, ripping out their necks and hunks of flesh. One of the runners suddenly leaped onto our car and my dad swerved hard to the right. and slammed the front end into a street lamp. "Everyone bail out!" yelled Scott, a childhood friend of my dads. I crawled through the back seat and out onto the pavement, blinking grit and smoke from my eyes. The first thing I heard were the groans and screams of those living and those dead. My dad pulled me to his side and looked at me with concern only a parent can conjour up. "I'm okay" I said hastily, "Really I'm fine, tkes more than a car crash to stop me" I said with a smile. My dad nodded and turned his attention ahead. "Randy!" Scott screamed as a runner had him by the throat. My dad turned deftly and palnted a bullet in the slobering man's kneecap. The runner slumped forward and Scott pushed him off and shot the man quickly thorigh the mouth. The lower half of his neck and gullet exploded in a shower of gore.
I turned with my head swimming with all that was taking place. Innocent people were being devoured and eaten and those unlikely enough not to be killed outright rose up again. One shuffled after me and I brought my pistol up to bear. The gun kicked in my hands and the zombie went down before I had even registered that I had pulled the trigger. We all ran towards the nearest building before Phil started screaming. A runner had gotten him and was gnawing at his throat and gouging out his eyes, the white eye-fluid was squirting out between the runners fingers. Scott shot him and the runner in the head. They both crumpled to the ground without another sound, Phil was leaking blood through the wound while one eye remained open. I stopped and slowly shut his remaining eye and said a quick prayer to God to accept his soul into Heaven. Then we were off again.
We ducked into a store that held about 10 surviviors and settled in. My dad and Scott stood guard with a few others as I tried to call my girlfriend. After the third time she picked up, sounding scared but otherwise okay. I told her I was okay and that I missed her before my cell went dead. My night was unrestful and punctured by gunshots and the groans of the dying and undead. The next morning the zombies were gone so we all talked about what to do-some wanted to stay put and ride it out while others wanted to go out and find more survivors. Calm talking became loud arguements and guns were pulled out. A group of religious fanatics started preaching and one of them was punched in the face by a biker. My dad tried to stop them to listen but he and Scott ended up getting hit as the fear and anger got the best of some of the survivors. There was no reasoning with these people, as they were all ruled by fear now.
We left with a women named Jane and a guy named Casey before things got to serious. When we reached outside we heard a gunshot and screams followed by four more gunshots. We dashed inside only to find five of the remaining eight survivors dead. Blood was everywhere and the remaining three just looked at us with cold eyes and picked up some guns and walked out into the street. We walked into the city and raided a thankfully abadoned Target. There wasn't that much there but we managed to get some medicine, lanterns and tents. Afterwards we walked toawrds the country side and stopped to rest in Edina.
That was three weeks ago.
And thats where I gotta leave off right now. Nights setting in and tomorrow we gotta look for survivors. We're currently in an aboandoned house outside of Edina on county road six by an old cemetary (ironic). The survivors are doing good, Jane is a nurse so we got medical care (or as close as we can get) and Casey is a mechanic so we got two cars workin' now. I'll keep everyone posted. I hope you all are alright and we will get through this. God bless you all.