First off I would like to thank Gothgoddessrhia and ImNotGivingMyNameToAMachine, both of whom have inspired me to try and write my own zombie fic. One of my favorite stories I have ever read since I found this site is Gothgoddess' story 'As The World Dies'. It is truly an incredible piece of artwork.

The Last Days

Disclaimer: I own the rights to all the characters in this story.

Chapter 1

Screams. Blood. Gunfire. People dying all around him. He can hear gunfire coming closer. Fear. Fear is the only thing he feels. It is the only thing registering in his mind. He looks up from where he is crouched and see's them running at him, screaming. He has no choice but to fire. He hears the people around him panicking, getting up to run away, only to be cut down. This is a time he will never forget. The year is 2004. The War on Terror is nearing its peak. The Iraqi's are drawing closer to his position. He must keep firing. Keep firing to ensure his safety. Closer they came, closer, closer….

Tuesday, April 29th, 2008

6:15 am

Ettrick, Virginia

Jason Alexander jolted upright from his nightmare, drenched in sweat. It had been four years since that day, and every day he regretted being there. The war was horrible. His saw some of his closest friends cut down around him as they tried to get re-enforcements. Jason's squad had been ambushed while on escort detail. Corporal Taylor was the first one hit. The first shot caught him in the right hip, while the second went through his throat. He had bled to death very soon after.

Staff Sergeant Samuels was next. He took a shot to the head. After that it was complete chaos. The Iraqis were everywhere. Jason must have killed a dozen before re-enforcements arrived. All that were left of the squad were Jason, Private Miller, Private Johnson, Private Springs, Corporal Doakes, and Lance Corporal Meyburn. Of a squad of sixteen men, only six survived. Private Miller took shots to the left shoulder and abdomen. Private Johnson suffered a severe concussion and multiple skull fractures from a grenade. Private Springs, who was near Johnson when the grenade went off, had shrapnel in his right leg and a concussion. Corporal Doakes and Lance Corporal Meyburn managed to come out with cuts that required stitched and shrapnel injuries. Jason took a bullet through his left leg and a minor concussion from the concussive blast of the grenade.

'It's all in the past now.' Jason thought. He stood up to his full six foot six inch frame and headed to the bathroom to get some water. Jason filled up a large glass full of water and took a long, deep drink. When he was done he washed out the glass and put it away. He glanced up at the mirror hanging above the sink and saw a pair of piercing, light blue eyes staring back at him. He yawned and ran a hand through his thick black hair and headed back to bed to try and get a couple more hours of sleep.

As he lay down beneath the covers of his bed he could still hear the screams and gunfire. He sighed. 'There is nothing I can do about it now. Maybe I should go see that shrink Doakes suggested.' He sighed again as he heard more screams and gunfire. His eyes shot open. The shots seemed to be coming from outside. 'What the hell is going on out there? Another gang shoot out maybe?' As he stood up he heard a crash come from the shop downstairs.

"Oh hell no. Those punks aren't getting anything from my shop again." Jason muttered to himself. He threw on a crimson tank top, black jeans, and black sneakers and went to the front door grabbing his Remington 1100 from his gun safe in his hallway closet. He double checked for ammo before cocking it and heading out the door and down the stairs.

He quietly opened the door to his office and walked in. He swung his gun around, looking around the room and not seeing anyone. He walked briskly to the door that led to the shops garage. He glanced around the room not seeing anyone. He lowered his gun. 'Little shits must have left already.' Then there was a crash from across the garage. Jason immediately has his shotgun raised and trained on the area the noise came from. As he walked over, he smelled rotting flesh and blood. 'God what is that smell?' He thought.

"Alright you little punks, come out or I'm gonna call the cops." Jason said loudly.

CRASH! Jason spun around, bringing his shotgun to bear. A man, probably in his mid 20's dressed in baggy pants and a bloody tank top was snarling as he ran at Jason.

"Stop or I will shoot!" Jason yelled at him. The man just kept running and snarling.

BOOM! The sound of the Remington echoed throughout the garage as the mans head disintegrated into blood, brains, and bone. 'Oh I am so fucked now.' Jason though. He groaned at the thought of what was to come. 'I'll be arrested for first or second degree murder. Shit.' He thought as he walked over to the corpse. As he did the smell of rotting flesh became stronger.

"God that stinks!" Jason exclaimed covering his nose. He walked over to the light switch and flipped it on. "Holy shit…" He got a good look at the mans body. The man was missing his head from the jaw up. But that wasn't all, he had his throat ripped out, there were many chunks missing from his arms and legs, and he had a gaping hole in his chest and was missing many organs.

"Holy shit…" Jason said again. "There is no way; absolutely no way I did that. This gun is strong, but not that strong!"

Suddenly there was more snarling behind him and he could hear the sound of feet pounding against the floor. He spun around, aimed at this new attacker, and fired. BOOM! The Remington spat out another shot, blowing off the right side of the new mans head and part of his right shoulder. Jason examined the corpse of the new attacker. The dead man looked to be in his late teens and was dressed like the first. This new attacker was missing most of his right arm and had parts of his face torn off. Jason looked back and forth between the first body and the second and could only reach one conclusion.

"Why the fuck are there zombies in my garage?!"

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Tuesday, April 29th, 2008

6:35 am

Ettrick, Virginia

After double checking the garage for anymore signed of zombies, Jason went back up to his apartment. He walked over to his bookshelf and picked up a worn out, battered book. 'The Zombie Survival Guide' by Max Brooks. Jason smirked as he gazed that the old book.

Flashback

USMC Camp Lejeune Brig, June 24th, 2006

Jason walked down the hallway of the Camp Lejeune Brig. He sentenced to one year in military prison for refusing to follow orders. It was the end of his first week and he was headed to the library to find something to read. He walked around for a while, nothing caught his interest, until he saw a small, very light green, almost tan, book. He pulled it off the shelf and looked at the title. 'The Zombie Survival Guide' by Max Brooks. He chuckled as he took the book with him to his cell. Over the next 11 months and 3 weeks he read the book over and over. When he was released from the military prison, he made a request. The guards laughed as he held up the book he wanted.

"Why do you want to take that book with you?" One guard asked with a thick southern accent "It ain't anything but a load of crap! Zombies ain't even real and they never will be!"

End Flashback

'I bet those guards are wishing they had read it at least once now. If they're alive that is.' Jason thought as he pocketed the book. He started gathering all his food, weapons, ammo, and as much water as he could fit it bottles into the front room.

"Alright. Beretta RX4 Storm, check. M16A2, check. XM-29 OICW, check. Remington 1100" He placed the weapon with the rest "Check. LAR Grizzly, check, Beretta 87, check. M249 SAW, check. Good, all the guns."

Jason loaded all the assault rifles, the shotgun, the handguns, and his machine gun before loading all the clips and placing them in a couple standard military issue backpacks with some food, water, and clothes. "This is going to be one hell of a trip." Jason thought out loud. He grabbed some of his supplies and headed down to the garage and loaded them in the back of a red '08 Chevy Silverado. 'Good thing I finished replacing the transmission yesterday. Too bad the owners won't be using it again. Oh well.' He thought grimly. A couple trips later he had all the supplies he could find. He let out a sharp whistle and a large German shepherd came running out of the apartment and jumped in the door and sat in passenger seat. Jason shut the door and grinned. 'If I managed to stay alive, this could be kind of fun!' He glanced at the trucks clock. It read7:04 am.

"Dammit, an hour ago I was asleep."

He placed his RX4 Storm on his lap, started the truck, and hit the automatic door opener he brought with him. As the garage door opened, he could see three zombies feasting on a body. Blood was all around them and as they looked up, Jason could see the pieces of human flesh hanging from their jaws. They snarled and charged at the truck. Jason put the truck in drive and slammed on the gas. The Chevy lurched from its position and sped out into the street, crushing the oncoming zombies. Blood sprayed on the windshield as they were crushed.

"Shit! These things make a huge mess!" Jason cursed. Then he smirked as he scratched behind his dog's ear. "Think I'm a good enough driver to nail 'em on the side of the road, eh Trip?" Trip barked in response. "Yeah, I think I am too." Jason grinned as he sped down the road crushing another zombie.

Tuesday, April 29th, 2008

7:09 am

Ettrick, Virginia

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Tuesday, April 29th, 2008

7:00 am

Perry, Georgia

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

Serafino Stanco groaned as he hit the alarm clock. He glanced at the time; it read 7:00 am. His body complained as he rolled from the bed and headed to the bathroom where he undressed and got in the shower. Hot water ran down his body as he ran his hands over his face and through his hair. He grabbed a bar of soap and began washing his body.

He ran his hand over his left arm, feeling the bumps of the scars the acquired while serving his country in the Air Force. He had been serving his third tour over seas in Iraq. He had been ordered to take his squad of ten men and scout out a fairly run down part of the city for hostiles.

Flashback

"Hey, Colonel!" Serafino spun around.

"Major Hampton. What brings you out to this godforsaken part of the city?" Serafino asked.

"General Briggs sent us to cover your Air Force backsides. There's been a report of a large group of hostiles in the area." Major Hampton replied.

Serafino groaned "Great. Let's hope that it's just a rumor."

"Yeah, seriously. I heard about what some of those Iraqis did to Staff Sergeant Samuels' squad a little while back. Little fucks tore the squad to bits. Only six of the squad made it out alive."

"Jesus Christ." Serafino exclaimed. He turned and shouted "Lt. Milliman! Tell everyone to stay sharp, there's been word of-"

He was cut off as bullets began flying all around them. In the first couple seconds two men were dead and five were injured. Serafino and Hampton dove to the right, behind a section of fallen was and began to return fire. Iraqis began appearing in every window, alleyway, and street. Serafino glanced to his left in time to see Lt. Milliman fall to the ground after taking several shots to the chest.

"Shit! They just killed Milliman!" Serafino yelled to Hampton "Hampton, we need to retreat now, you hear me? We need to go now! Hampton? Hampton!"

He looked to the right and saw Major Hampton holding a bloodied hand to his chest.

"Sorry Colonel. Damn bugger got me." Hampton gritted his teeth in pain "'Raf, tell Krista I'm sorry and I love her and the kids." He said with tear filled eyes.

Serafino put his hand to the side of Hampton's head and said "Don't you think like that major! You're gonna pull through this! You're going to see Krista and the kids again!"

Hampton shook his head and coughed up blood. "Sorry sir, but I'm not going to make it back. Promise me that you'll be the one to tell my family what happened. Tell them I love them and that I will see them again."

"I promise." Serafino said sadly.

Hampton shifted his gaze to a building across the street and his eyes widened. "Sir look out!" Serafino turned but it was too late. An Iraqi soldier fired and RPG. It exploded several feet from Serafino, the blast sending him flying into the wall. The last thing he saw before blacking out was a tank barreling down the road, firing at the fleeing hostiles.

End Flashback

Serafino and woken up a week later in the base hospital. He had suffered first to third degree burns on his left side, multiple fractures and a break to his left leg, pelvis, and left arm, a severe concussion, and multiple skull fractures. His right side was relatively unscathed, due to his left side facing the exploding RPG.

It would be 12 to 14 months before he would be fully healed. Maybe longer, depending on how much he strained himself, and he would always walk with a limp. His superiors had given him the options of taking a desk job or retiring. He had chosen the latter. He got out of the shower and dried himself off. He put on a plain white t-shirt over a white tank top and a pair of black jeans. He walked to his kitchen where he grabbed cereal, milk, a bowl, and spoon. He sat down at the table and started eating when his phone rang.

"Hello?" Serafino asked.

"Hey 'Raf, its Don. Turn on your TV to channel 7. You have got too see this." Don said quickly.

"Why? There is never anything good on the news." Serafino said as he walked to the TV.

"Trust me; you'll want to see this." Don said.

"Alright, alright I'm going." Serafino flipped through the channels until he reached channel 7. What he saw chilled him to the bone.

"This is Ryan Jones with K7 news. I'm live in downtown Macon, Georgia where there seems to be some sort of a riot going on." The reporter said.

"Shit that's only fifteen miles from here." Serafino swore.

"It's only a couple miles from here. I'm getting pretty freaked out man, would you mind if I head over to your place for a little while?" Don asked.

"Yeah sure, come on over."

"Thanks man. I'll be there in about fifteen minutes." Don hung up the phone.

Serafino put down the phone and watched in horror at what was going on just fifteen miles from his home. The police and military were shooting live rounds at the rapidly growing crowds. They didn't seem to be doing much. The people that were shot just kept running, or they would fall down, get back up and keep running. Only the ones that took shots to the head would stay down.

Serafino watched as a man, probably in his mid 40's dressed in a bloody business suit, jump the barricade that separated the reporter from the crowd. The man jumped on the reporter, ripping a chuck of flesh out of his neck, blood spurting everywhere. The man kept biting, scratching, and clawing away at the screaming reporter as they fell to the ground. The cameraman dropped his camera and Serafino could see him try and run, only to be run down by an old woman, who started tore into him, tearing of chunk after chunk of flesh. Serafino could hear the cameraman's screams as the live footage went offline.

"Dear God what are those things?" Serafino said in horror. The sight he had just witnessed stunned and sickened him. He flipped through the channels, each one showing the same result. There were riots everywhere. Seattle, Knoxville, Richmond, Atlanta, Macon, and Houston were just a few. There was only one thought running through the mind of Serafino Stanco.

'What the hell is going on?'

Tuesday, April 29th, 2008

7:26 am

Perry, Georgia

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"Crap!" Jason shouted as he swerved, almost hitting another car.

Tuesday, April 29th, 2008

7:14 am

Ettrick, Virginia

Jason turned right on River Road and slammed on the gas. He scratched Trip's ear as they sped down the road.

"Think we should try to get something to eat Trip?" Jason asked his companion. He received an energetic bark in return.

"Well, we'd better keep an eye out for those zombies." Another bark. "Yeah I think so too boy."

Jason swerved in and out of cars, watching people running away from the zombies, only to be caught, partially devoured, and then turned. He was sickened at the sight of so many people being pulled from cars, attacked on the side of the road, and being attacked in their homes. There was blood virtually everywhere he looked. A few minutes later he took a hard right on Pickett Avenue, headed right through Matoaca. His goal was to make it to Highway 460 and take it west until it connects with Highway 360 then drive west until he reached Keysville. From there he didn't really have any idea. But first he would need a few more supplies.

The Chevy's engine roared as Jason tore down the road, crushing any zombies, or innocent bystanders that got in the way. Not that me meant to hit the bystanders. 'But there are definitely worse ways to go.' Jason thought grimly.

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Tuesday, April 29th, 2008

7:31 am

Sutherland, Virginia

Jason slowed down cautiously as he reached a local convenience store. He couldn't see any zombies around and that unnerved him.

"Damn Trip, this shit is pretty freaky." Trip growled as Jason slowed down and pulled into the parking lot. Nothing was moving, alive or undead. Jason did a U-turn in the parking lot and, lining the truck bed up with the doors of the shop, and hit the gas, shattering the shop doors as he backed into the shop.

Jason picked up his Remington, opened the door and got out, Trip jumping out behind him.

"Alright boy, you stay here and keep an eye out." Jason grinned as Trip barked in response. "Atta boy."

Jason cocked the Remington as he looked around the shop. He heard Trip bark and a split second later he heard feet pounding on the floor behind him. He swung around, bringing his shotgun up to his shoulder and fired. BOOM! The shot blew off the top of the zombies head, sending it flying back into a food rack where it lay, unmoving.

'Fuck, there's going to be more coming soon. I have to hurry.' Jason thought. He lifted up the tunnel cover on the trucks bed, exposing the supplies he already had. He jumped behind the counter, grabbing several plastic bags, and went to find some food. He ran up and down the aisles, grabbing as much food and other supplies and stuffing them into the plastic bags. Jason ran to the fridge, grabbing as many drinks as he could carry. Five minutes later he heard Trip barking and snarling at the front of the store. He ran back to the truck, tossing the drinks into the bed and closing the cover before running to the front of the truck and firing at the incoming group of zombies.

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! The shots were deafening in such an enclosed area, but through the noise Jason could hear the bark of a Zastava M21. He saw many more zombies fall to the unknown carrier of the foreign assault rifle. When the gunshots ended, Jason glanced around the shop. Not seeing anyone he shifted his gaze to the surrounding buildings. He saw movement out of the corner of his eyes. He trained his Remington on the figures fast approaching.

"Don't shoot! Don't shoot! We're friendly!" A man called with a think Egyptian accent.

"Have any of you been bitten?" Jason called out.

"No, none of us have," The man replied. As he drew closer he saw an older man, probably in his early 50's, a young boy around ten years old, and a young woman who looked to be in her early 20's. The old man stood at around 6' 2". He had short, graying black hair and a short but full beard. The boy was no taller than four and a half feet and had blond hair that hung down in his eyes. The woman was taller than the average female. Standing at around 5' 8", she was very fit and had long, curly, mahogany brown hair pulled back in a ponytail with a few stray strands hanging in her face. He could see light reflecting off glasses. The group ran into the shop, with the old man training his Zastava on the empty street.

The man had three rifles on his back, a Dragunov sniper rifle, a Zastava M76 sniper rifle, and an Egyptian military standard issue Rasheed carbine. The woman was carrying a standard military issue M16A2 with an attached grenade launcher, a Russian Saiga .410 shotgun, and a Sphinx 2000 handgun. The young boy had a .22 caliber rifle and an ASP handgun.

"Who are you?" Jason asked warily.

"My name is Azibo Ghazi. Call me Azi. The woman is Hannah Mauer and the boy is Malcolm Curtis." Azibo said.

(A/N: Azibo will be referred to as Azi.)

The boy looked close to tears while the young woman looked to be in an emotional shock. He looked at the young woman, Hannah, and saw that she was straining with holding the rifles and a backpack that looked to he filled with ammunition.

"Here, let me take that for you." Jason said, taking the guns and backpack from her and after opening up the cover, placing them in the back of the Chevy. Then he proceeded to take the .22 from Malcolm and place it with the rest of the guns. He looked at Azi.

"Why don't you put the rest of the guns in the back of the truck." Jason said.

"And let you run off with our only defense? No, I don't think I will." Azi said sternly. (1)

"Look, I'm not trying to steal your guns. The way I see it, the only chance we have of surviving is to stay together."

"Why would you risk your life and help three complete strangers?" Azi asked.

"I don't know. It just makes sense. You three are the only living people I've seen all morning except for the poor souls being ripped to shreds on the side of the road." Jason replied. "And besides, I have enough supplies and room in the truck for all four of us." (2)

Azibo was lost in thought. "Can I trust you?"

"Right now you have no choice." Jason said.

Trip suddenly starting barking furiously toward the street. Jason's head whipped up and he stared at the new small horde of zombies.

"What are you going to do, huh? Either you three get in the truck now or I will give you back your guns and leave you here to die." Jason said quickly, shouldering the Remington. "Choose now!"

"Quickly now! Malcolm, Hannah, get in the truck!" Azi ushered them into the truck.

"Good choice. Get in all of you!" Jason opened the door and let Trip jump in the back with Hannah and Malcolm, while Azi got in the passenger seat.

"Everyone get on your seatbelts and hold on tight. This is going to be a bumpy ride." Jason said as he turned on the Chevy and hit the gas, sending the truck flying out into the street, narrowly escaping the every growing horde.

Tuesday, April 29th, 2008

7:54 am

Sutherland, Virginia

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Tuesday, April 29th, 2008

7:37 am

Perry, Georgia

Serafino limped to the front door where he could hear someone pounding on it. He cocked his Mossberg 590 and looked through the peep hole in the door and saw Don holding an M77 Hawkeye .270 caliber rifle and a Winchester M1895. Don was wearing his normal cowboy boots, jeans, belt with his large rodeo belt buckle, blue button up shirt, brown leather vest, and cowboy hat. Don had bits of blood on his clothes.

"Jesus Don what happened?" Serafino said, looking over Dons appearance. He had blood on his jacket and face.

"On my way to my car a couple rioters tried to jump me. I got away though. They kept trying to bite and scratch me. They didn't look to good either. They looked dead, but they're up and running around. One woman had her throat ripped out. A man had some intestines hanging out of his gut and was missing half his left arm." Don said. He was extremely pale. He looked up at Serafino "Good God 'Raf, what's going on?"

(A/N: Serafino will be referred to as 'Raf from now on.)

"I don't know Don. There have been reports of riots like this happening all over, and it's not restricted to the United States either. There have been reports from Glasgow, Scotland, London, Paris, and places all over Europe and Asia."

"Fuck." Don swore.

"My thoughts exactly." 'Raf said

"These things look like zombies right out of a horror movie." Don said quietly. "They try and bite you, eat you. They run around with missing body parts and parts hanging out." He looked up at 'Raf and asked "Don't you have a bunch of guns from when you were in the military?"

"Yeah I do. They're in a gun safe in the garage." 'Raf said, catching on.

"Well let's go get 'em then."

'Raf and Don proceeded to the garage and emptied 'Rafs gun safe, bringing the guns and ammo to the upstairs living room.

"Hey man, what are we going to do? I mean, there are zombie-like things running around all over. What's gonna happen to us?" Don asked 'Raf.

"I dunno Don. I really don't know." 'Raf said. They jerked their heads up at the sound of the front door opening and closing.

"Are these things smart?" Don asked tentatively.

"I have no idea. Let's go check it out." "Raf said, shouldering the Mossberg 590 and limping toward the stairs. They slowly made their way to the stairs, trying to be as quiet as possible. 'Raf gave Don hand signals telling him that he was going to go downstairs. Don shook his head and mouthed 'Don't'. 'Raf shook his head and began limping down the stairs. When he reached the corner of the stairs, he slowly stuck his head around the corner. As he listened, he could hear slow, rhythmic breathing. He looked up at Don and mouthed 'There's one in the house!'

Tuesday, April 29th, 2008

7:54 am

Perry, Georgia

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TO BE CONTINUED

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(1) Azi needs to be cautious. At a time like this, there definitely are people who would want to take advantage of others.

(2) Jason had read and re-read the 'The Zombie Survival Guide' enough to know that there is safety in numbers, plus it just makes sense.

This is my first attempt at a zombie fic. Please read and let me know what you think!