AN: Greetings, I see you've stumbled upon my latest attempt at starting and finishing a fanfic. If you're a person who hates sporadic updates, especially with months and sometimes even years at a time between them, you'd be doing yourself a favor if you left now. If you think your willing to get on unpredictable-story-update train, were boarding now so take a seat!
I will admit now that these first few chapters are going to have extra servings of flashbacks, but bear with me. After that we should be coasting along smoothly!
I'm always open to suggestions, picky editors, grammar freaks, and snarky criticism - its how we grow as writers. Polite and helpful people get cookies though! So without further blabbering, enjoy this short prologue - a tasty tidbit of what's to come!
Hello. My name is Madison Curtwell. I live with my dog, Kylah, in a bunker hidden deep in the North Dakota bush. If you reading this message then you are in radio range. I am willing to take in anyone who really needs it - on the condition that you understand that I will not hesitate to kill you if you pose a threat to myself or my canine companion. I have supplies to spare and company to offer, if you are interested give me a buzz on this radio, channel six.
It's been about three months since I wrote that message on every safehouse I could find, in the vicinity, with a two-way radio still intact. Five in total. So far I've only been called twice. First time I arrived too late, finding their bodies pulverized by a tank - it's charred body resting not far from the scene. The second time I discovered a horrifying secret about the infected. They were becoming intelligent. I'd walked into an ambush while following someone's cries for help. That someone turned out to be a wandering witch, and she had friends waiting for us. It was only thanks to my brave German Shepherd, Kylah, that I was able to escape with both our lives.
That was almost two months ago, I haven't left the bunker since then.