Warning: this is my first fanfic ever so bear with me.
I can't remember my brother's face, or my parents for that matter. Details like that get lost when stuff happens, stuff like this. I mean, I know he's tall and has brown hair and was at college when it happened, but that's it. I remember his name, Liam, and the blue beat up mustang he worked two solid summers to even get the downpayment for. The one I begged him to let me drive, but "No, you're only fourteen" was always the answer. If only he could see me now. But Liam is dead, and now I only remember the first walker's face.
The world as far as I'm concerned, ended on a Monday, which is a terrible day to begin with. I was at school in the freshman building, in the classroom of the most monotone teacher on this planet, Mr. O'Brien. He was middle age, bald, and liked nothing more than to talk. My earbuds were in to try to drown out today's lesson: the newest pandemic and increase in hospital admittance. My mom was a medic at the local hospital and it was all she'd been talking about for the past month. So I missed the first scream. Not that it mattered because it was followed by countless more. Loud and bone-chilling, they sounded close, like just outside the classroom door close, and were followed by a barrage of gunfire. I could feel my heart rate increase, like the feeling you get when you're on a rollercoaster about to go down the big hill and you change your mind but can't do anything about it, you know? The teacher cut off his endless lecture, which never happened; usually, his voice just grew louder and louder to drown out the whispers. The PA system turned on briefly, and processed heavy breathing and more shrieks flooded into the room from the main office of the school. Then the familiar voice of our principal came on:
"We're going to... hard lockdown because…" each word seemed like a battle for him to enunciate. "Officer…was dying…we tried...didn't want to shoot...but she bit- she bit...why? No, no, go away," before the announcement cut off by the principal's own screams.
Mr. O'Brien was pale and frozen, incapable to do anything to quell the rising panic in his classroom. My phone vibrated in my bag and I immediately, having nothing better to do, pulled it out. The contact screen read Mom.
"Hello? Something weird is going on-," I tried to explain.
"Are you at the school?" She said, speech labored.
"Where else would I be?" I could hear screams in the background of the call. "Where are you?"
"At the hospital. Listen to me, you need to get out of there. Now, stay away, don't let them scratch you, don't let them bite you." Her breathing was labored and it seemed hard for her to gasp the words into the phone.
"But the lockdown... Wait, what? Bite me? Why would anything bite me?" Nothing was making sense. "Mom, are you okay?"
"It bit me, Liana! It was a routine call for our ambulance and we stopped the bleeding, but the fever was too high and then he, he died but he wasn't really dead, none of them are. I'm gonna have to hang up soon sweetie. They're trying to contain it...Liana, I'm sorry." Several gunshots rang into the receiver, my body flinched with each one.
"Second floor clear." A gruff voice shouted amid the chaos of the hospital before the call ended.
"Mom? Mom, Mom!" I yelled at the phone, hot tears rolling down my cheeks, attracting the attention of everyone in the room. My phone's screen was filled with a breaking news announcement about an army massacre at a hospital, but no, that couldn't be right. Not my mom's hospital. The article had to be wrong.
"Liana? What's going on?" The boy next to me asked, he'd barely spoken a word to me this whole school year until now and I could feel myself turn red beneath all their questioning stares.
"I-I don't know…" I mumbled.
We stayed on lockdown for three hours. That was enough time to call every number in my contacts list twice before my phone died. I didn't bother with my mom's, and Liam's went straight to voicemail. Soon they all produced the same message: service not available. The classroom was surprisingly quiet and everyone was speaking in whispers. On girl had left to go to the bathroom before the announcement and hadn't returned. Her bag and open notebook were two seats over, pen still resting on the page. I was just about to muster up the courage to stand up to charge the phone when the lights went out. It was in an interior room, which meant no natural light whatsoever. The classroom was completely different in the dark. I had to get out, the need to know what was going on was too strong. I should have listened to Mom from the start, I thought, making a break for the exit.
"What are you doing? Come back here, the lockdown!" My classmate's choruses followed me. As if the lockdown mattered anymore. And it was too late. I was in the hallway.
Outside, the noises that had been muffled were now clear. It was as if I'd had earplugs on in the classroom and just took them out. There was a puddle of blood on the floor outside the door. The source of the blood was a couple feet away, face so damaged and smashed I couldn't even tell if it had been a girl or a boy. Horror filled me when I saw its fingers twitch and the body tried to get up, but it kept slipping in the blood. I was going to be sick. Turning the corner I ran into the school resource officer.
"Oh my god you need to help, the principal, my mom, and there's a body and blood..." I started before I took in the giant bullet hole in the middle of her chest, the bite mark on the torn skin of her neck. How was she alive, how was she standing? Her eyes were glassy, covered in a yellow-white film. Ribbons of red the ran down her chin from her crimson stained teeth and a scream torn its way out of my throat, joining thousands of others.
"Officer?" I sputtered, turning to run as she reached after me. Footsteps came down the hall, drawn by my scream and I hoped distantly that it was the police, someone to fix this. As the crowd turned the corner though, the incoming people didn't walk right, their outstretched arms were stiff, and their fatigues were covered in blood. The resource officer, or what had used to be the resource officer drew closer, her groans loud now that her mouth was so close to my ear. Don't let them scratch you, don't let them bite you. My hands were on her bony shoulders, against her cold skin, as she, not she, it, as its neck strained forward, teeth snapping inches away from my face. Adrenaline allowed me to push her to the ground and I frantically ran back down the hall. The pool of blood escaped my attention and I slipped, going down hard. Dazed I crawled into the first door I reached. Stairs faced me, the roof, I thought, and stumbled up them, away from the things scratching at the door behind me. Turning around, I saw I wasn't the only one to seek refuge here.