She was almost certain that her life was over. Her father now lay in front of her on the floor, dead, in his own pool of infected blood. She'd had to kill him. As much as it fucked with her mind, she knew that that's what he would have wanted her to do. Now, she was left alone in her small house, screams and shrieks filling her ears from just outside the window from which she tried to stay as far away from as possible. She thought it was over. The infection had started in England... How had it made it to the United States so quickly? How had it made its way to the States at all?
It made sense that Georgia was one of the first states that it hit, being a coastal state and all. That didn't make it any more acceptable, though.
All she could do was cry. Cry and pray. All she could do was cry because her father was dead and pray that perhaps the infected wouldn't make their way into her now closed front doors, both locked in three places. Her cell phone didn't work because of her stupid fucking teenaged ways not plugging it into its damned charger like her father had told her to.
"...Dad..." she muttered softly. Her hands clenched tightly to the 9mm her father had been given for Christmas. She remembered him teaching her how to aim it, how to shoot. She'd hoped that she would never have to use it, but she never dreamed that she would have to use it on her own...her own fucking dad. She let out another short sob - a sort of animal grunt of pure terror and a hopeless feeling of emptiness and sadness. Somewhere, she thought, her mother was out there, and she wondered if she would ever see her again.
Then she knew what she had to do. She remembered where her father kept all of his "first aid" things, in his large black backpack. She dumped out all of its heavy contents, and repacked the necessary things, trying her hardest to ignore the screams and primal roars and grunts from just outside the window. She packed carefully: a shake-up flashlight (and was thankful she even had one), her phone and its charger (in case of any electricity anywhere), a couple of sodas and some candy for sugar, a couple of bottles of water, some dry foods and some canned foods, some spare clothes and a spare pair of shoes, the family first-aid kit, her inhaler (asthma would probably be the death of her, she figured), and...most importantly...her father's gun and as many gun clips as she could possibly find in her tiny household.
Now that she was packed, she made sure her attire was ready and fit. A loose-fitting black shirt (to blend in under darker skies), one of her father's army jackets, some blue jeans (they were the best thing she had), a pair of white socks, her tennis shoes, and an old, Vietnam-styled army helmet made of a thin sheet of steel. It may not have been the most protective thing, but it would at least slow those things from biting into her head like a fucking apple.
She was as ready as she thought she could be. Now, finally, she could properly mourn for her father. She couldn't kiss him goodbye, she couldn't hug him goodbye. All she could do was brush a hand against his face. As soon as she felt the tears welling, there was a loud banging on both of her front doors. She looked up quickly, then heard the unmistakable grunts and screams of the infected. They banged and banged, and finally, the window was shattered open. She couldn't suppress a shriek as she ran towards her bathroom, opening the window in it and climbing out, almost getting snagged by the backpack she wore.
"Fuck!!" she screamed as she finally wriggled her way out, onto the ground, and over the chain-link fence into the small parking lot of the apartment complex next door. She didn't stop there, though. Her feet carried her as fast as they possibly could, onto the abandoned street and up the hill. The infected followed. She didn't dare to look back, of course, but by the sound of it she guessed there were already ten on her trail, and more were quickly coming. Adrenaline pumped through her veins, and a fluttery feeling settled in her throat, like she was about to scream or cry. No noise emitted from her, though. Her eyes were locked on the path ahead, and she made sure to take notice of things going on in her peripheral sight as well. The infected had already spread well throughout Columbus. For a split second she was going to think of all her friends and family who might still be alive, but then she stumbled, and her heart almost burst open from the sheer terror she felt rippling through her. She decided that her thoughts would slow her no more.
On up the hill, past the Burger King, past the Aflac, past the gas stations, and she was quickly growing tired. Slowly, one by one, the infected had divided, pursuing easier victims or joining groups of their own who had already caught one. She'd decided that now it was at least safe enough for her to look back. Five were chasing her at the moment. She had five to lose. Slowly she heard another split off into a separate route, chasing down and biting into a small boy, and another infected followed in suit, followed by one other, then another. Now she had one. This one was persistent, apparently. She remembered that he was the one who had shattered her window, the first one she'd locked eyes with other than her father. It glared at her now, even more intensely, and it seemed to start running faster. She suppressed her scream this time, and did not hesitate to force herself to run faster. Her legs made long strides, so long that her hamstrings felt as though they might snap at any second.
'No,' she thought, 'I can't die now. I have to survive. I know it's possible, I know it is! I've heard of people doing it before! I'm --' Her thoughts were quickly cut short by, once again, a stumble, but this time a fall as well.
"Fuck!!" she screamed. No, no, no! This was far too early for her to go. No, this was the beginning of her journey. Her arms strained, her heart pounded, and her legs screamed as she got up and started to desperately run again. The infected was closer now. Too close. No...this was it. This was the end. Her sight blurred, her ears were ringing, her head was throbbing. Was she going to die? This soon?
Then there was a gunshot. It snapped her into her senses, and she realized that...the infected who had followed her so closely but a few moments ago was dead on the street.
"Over here!" someone shouted. Quickly her head turned, and she saw a man standing on top of some sort of SUV. She didn't want to run. The thought of picking her feet back up, lifting a leg again almost made her puke. But she knew that she had to. And so she did. Every single muscle in her leg ached, and her knees creaked against their bony counterparts. The man, hand outstretched, grabbed her and yanked her up before she even had time to thank him.
He immediately took her by both shoulders (being sure that the hand holding the gun was more delicately placed) and shook her, "Listen to me," he began, very sternly, "you see this line of cars right here?" She looked past his shoulder for a moment, then nodded and looked back at him. He continued, "Run. Stay on top of the fucking cars and don't look back. Run until you cross the bridge to Alabama and keep on running. You got it? Just trust me. You're not gonna' die here." Alabama? That was a straight shot, sure, but a long way for running distance...especially non-stop running...
An infected screamed. He pushed her, shot the infected, and then paid no mind as she began to run. Following simple instructions; that was the key to survival. That, and paying attention to the little voice inside of your fucking head that divides right and wrong.
The cars were spaced in a varied manner. Some where right against the next, and some were car-lengths apart, but it was nothing she couldn't jump. While this fact surprised her somewhat, she dared not take the time to wallow in the pride. She was more focused on running as fast as she possibly fucking could. Then the wheezing set in, and she could hear it and feel it. A cold, restricting feeling in her throat. She began to wonder if the man was telling the truth. But then she almost lost her balance and fell.
'That's what you fucking get!' she screamed to herself quickly, and she continued sprinting. The infected were nowhere to be seen. There was nothing alive to be seen. That didn't stop her, though. Nothing could stop her.