I was six when the world ended. Surprisingly,or maybe not so surprisingly, I don’t remember much of it. What I do remember however, visits me at the most inconvenient times. Like now.
I run through the rain and try not to think about how the splashing of puddles underneath my feet reminds me of how puddles splashed underneath panicked feet that day.
Behind me the zombies are persistent in their chase. They’re surprisingly fast for disintegrating corpses. Nothing like Hollywood used to portray them and they certainly don’t act anything like me and the other kids used to while play acting like them.
But oh how I wish they did. Life would be so much easier. Unfortunately life rarely gives an easy road to take, so here I am being chased by unexpectedly fast and cunning zombies that are giving no sign of giving up any time soon.
It doesn’t help that I’m at least another six kilometers away from the nearest safe house or that my gun ran out of ammunition or that my knife is lost, lodged in one of the zombies shoulders. It really doesn’t help at all.
At this point I’m seriously just considering giving myself up to the zombies and accepting my gruesome fate. Maybe if they’re feeling generous they’ll just kill me instead of turning me into one of them.
But I’ve never been one to give up. Not without a decent fight anyway and I’ve still got some fight in me yet.
So I keep running, rain pelting me in the eyes and washing down my face. I take a sharp right and jump into a field, hoping the stone wall will slow the corpses down and give me an extra minute or two.
But alas, it seems the zombies have mastered the art of vaulting too. Damn it. Is there anything the infected can’t do? Except keep their skin attached to their bones of course.
Mud sloshes over my shoes and wet grass slaps my shins as I run across the field. I ignore the way my legs are starting to shake with exhaustion and the way my lungs are starting to burn from lack of oxygen.
Suddenly my foot collides with something hard that’s hidden in the overgrown grass-a rock.
I tumble over onto the ground, face planting into a muddy puddle. Great. Amazing. Fan-fucking-tastic. This day could not get any better.
I start to lift myself back up with shaky arms but before I can get to my feet a zombie catapults itself into me, knocking me over again. This day could not get any worse.
I turn onto my back and shove the writhing zombie off me. No sooner than I had done that the other zombie launched itself at me.
It’s times like these that I wish I had a companion. Then I wouldn’t have to fight these two zombies alone. I probably wouldn’t even have had to run from them in the first place.
But I am alone and have been since I was six. There’s nothing I can do about it now. I was shoved into this new world alone and that’s how I’m going to leave it. Unless of course I miraculously manage to escape these zombies unscathed and somehow manage to find someone who’s willing to trust some random stranger they found on the side of the road.
I hold back the zombie with one hand and reach for the rock I tripped over with the other all while kicking back the other zombie and trying not to throw up from the rotting corpse smell. What can I say? I’m a great multitasker.
Except I’m not. The zombie bites down on my leg. Hard. Fucking hell that hurt.
I clench my teeth in pain and smash the rock into the side of the zombies head over and over again until it loosens its grip on my leg and I kick it out of the way.
The rock in my hand is slippery with blood and brain matter as I bring it down over the last zombie’s head.
I use the moment it’s distracted as an opportunity to rip my knife out of its shoulder before repeatedly stabbing the zombie in the head until it keels over onto the ground unmoving.
I do the same to zombie number 1 to make sure it’s dead. I seriously can’t have it leaping up out of nowhere and launching itself at me again. That would be disastrous.
I slosh through puddles of blood and puddles of rain until I’m a comfortable enough distance away from the now actually dead zombies to sit down and inspect my leg.
I peel the wet, bloody fabric of my trousers away from my calf.
“Please just be a bruise. Please just be a bruise” I whisper desperately.
It wasn’t just a bruise. The blood on my trousers is mine. “Fuck” I curse “fuck”
It’s only a matter of time before my skin starts to rot.
************************************************
I look down from the roof of the building and watch the rain pelt off the ground far below me. It’s quite ironic actually how it rained both times my world ended. Except this time it’s ending for real.
I can’t let myself turn into one of them. I won’t let myself turn into one of them.
I close my eyes and jump.
A/N
Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed!
Amy x
