Chapter 1

Rule number 1

His feet slapped on the cold pavement. He looked behind him, just to assure himself that this was real. He was being chased, there was no way out of it. He jumped, and climbed the chain-link fence in a few seconds, but they were still hot on his tail, and he was running out of places to run. Suddenly, he saw a fire escape, and leaped for it, barely catching the bottom rung. It was rusted shut, so he pulled himself up and into the decrepit, moss-covered building. He heard the awful groans of the Infected as they ran right past him, the clickers making their awful sounds. Numbly, he reached into his pack and grabbed some beef jerky, shoving it in his mouth and forcing himself to chew and swallow. He knew he couldn't avoid them for long. Nervously, he fingered his tomahawks, which hung from his belt attached by leather thongs. Despite the leather, the tomahawk was military grade, triple-forged steel. He hadn't broken it yet and he doubted he ever would. His eyes darted up, aware of some movement. It was a broken window, and the only thing that was moving was his own reflection. Walking around the sinkhole in the middle of the house, he reached the window, and his reflection stared back at him. He was surprised at what he saw. A boy of fifteen years, with slightly tanned skin, alert brown eyes, straight black hair and lithe stature stared back at him. He mused on this. I thought I would have looked more starved. He flexed a couple times, satisfying his teenage ego. Of course, he didn't move his long-sleeved leather jacket. He didn't want anyone to see the bite. It had happened a few weeks ago, and he still hadn't turned. It was up on his shoulder, and it didn't fester like the other wounds he'd seen. It just stayed there, excepting a few blisters, and seemed to be healing itself up nicely. He sighed aloud, but not too loud, as he could hear the harsh click-click of the clickers, and the screams of the lurkers, although they were getting further from him. He relaxed, and slumped against the crumbling wall. Alright, Delsin Rowe, time to take inventory. Tomahawk, check. Backpack, check. Trench spike, which was sheathed on his left, ((A trench spike is a combat knife with ringed grip and spikes jutting from the ringed grip, if you didn't know. ~Zeta)) Check. Two whole packs of beef jerky, one can of soup, a spike bomb, a smoke bomb, and dad's M1911,two magazines, full. Oh, and two 32 ounce canteens, full. He looked up at the derelict ceiling. Human contact in three weeks; none. Hope of ever getting a girlfriend, zero. Being a teenager, he was still concerned about girls in the middle of the zombie apocalypse. Hope for the future? Nada-

Shots rang out, and he snapped to attention, slipping his backpack on and jumping lightly through the window, the pistol holstered in the back of his faded jeans. He crept along the rotting balcony, sticking close to the wall. He made the jump to the next building, and when he heard shots from inside, he unholstered his pistol.

"Joel, There's a lot of them!" A high pitched female voice rang out, and Delsin's ears perked up. She sounds my age.

"I know Ellie, keep fighting. We need that medicine for Tommy." Delsin noted the slower, more focused speech with a hint of southern accent. Older man… Probably mid-forties, he guessed. Maybe Ellie's his daughter? And who's Tommy? He got excited. Maybe they have a camp! At this thought, he almost jumped for joy, but he didn't because that would most likely get him shot or bit. And just because I'm immune doesn't mean biting doesn't hurt. He then noticed a brick nearby. Plan forming… He massaged his temples. "Got it!" He grabbed the brick, and chucked it through the window, hitting a Lurker in the face. He jumped through soon after, and tossed his jury-rigged spike bomb, then drew his pistol.

The Lurker screamed, and rushed at him, ten other Infected following.

"Whoa, whoa, what the hell?" Ellie yelled. "Who the hell are you?"

The spike bomb went off, killing four of the Lurkers. "I'm the guy who's saving your ass." Wow, even I thought that sounded cool. Measuring his shots, he killed the last three, and managed to get one of the Clickers. Then, he ran forward, and drove the tomahawk deep into the head of one, managed to shoot two others, and swung the trench spike, slitting the throat of the last zombie. He stood there, panting from the effort, and quite proud of himself.

"Okay smartass, drop your weapons."

Delsin turned to find Ellie's gun pointed straight at him. "Are you kidding me? I just saved your life!"

"Yeah, thanks." She lowered the gun for a second, then raised it again. "Now give me your weapons and your bag."

Delsin groaned, but complied. "Fine, take it."

Ellie looked him over. "And the jacket."
He shook his head. "No way." If she sees the bite, she'll kill me for sure.

"Excuse me? I'm the one with the gun, now give me the jacket!" Ellie tightened her grip on the pistol.

Delsin saw there was no choice. Here goes… "You have to promise not to shoot me without giving me a chance to explain."

She shrugged. "Deal." Then her eyes narrowed. "Explain what?"

He had already shrugged the left sleeve of his jacket off. "This." Slowly, he removed the right sleeve, and underneath his shirt cuff, a bite mark was clearly visible.

Ellie's eyes widened. "How long have you had it?"

"Two weeks." he saw the disbelief on her face, and moved forward, palms open and outstretched. "Look, I swear I'm not lying."

She tilted her head, to face the open doorway. "Joel, would you come out here?"

"No, no, He'll shoot me!" Delsin said. "You've gotta trust me."
Joel emerged, with a pill bottle in hand. "What's this about, now-" he stopped when he saw Delsin. "You're bit."

Delsin narrowed his eyes, not to seem intimidating, but trying to remember where he had seen Joel before…

"He says it's been like that for two weeks." Ellie's voice wavered a bit, and Delsin wondered why.

Joel's eyes lit up with an emotion Delsin couldn't decipher. "You mind if I take a look at it," he asked Delsin.

Delsin shrugged. "Sure, go ahead."

Joel approached cautiously, and examined the bite, trying to to touch it himself. He stepped back, in awe, and turned to look at Ellie. "He's telling the truth."

Ellie's eyes watered. "Really? Are you sure? Are you abso-fucking-lutely sure?" She looked like she was trying not to cry now.

Joel gave a quiet nod. "I'm sure."

Ellie lowered the gun, slowly. "You...You…" She ran over and hugged Delsin, who was surprised but not put out.

"I'm what?' He asked, slowly.

Ellie released him, slowly, like he might disappear. And then she rolled up her sleeve, and it was all Delsin could do not to gasp. A bite lingered on her skin, blisters and all.

"You're like me."