Changing Grace
~Prologue~
I awoke with a start to a scraping nail noise on my apartment door, you know that noise. The one that sounds like nails going down a chalkboard. I walked up to the door and looked out of the peephole. It was a man with bloody eye sockets, a purple vein covered face with blood all over his mouth, and what looked like a dislocated shoulder. I quickly ran for my phone before trying to call the police. Of course, the line went dead as soon as someone picked up the phone screaming. My years in med-school never gave me the course on how to deal with these kinds of people so I did the logical thing and grabbed a chair from my "kitchen" and jammed it up against the lock before looking around frantically for a heavier item that I, a twenty-five year old, in all my 125lbs of solid muscle could lift...I ran to my room and pushed my dresser all the way to the front and covered the door. After hearing the sirens and the emergency broadcasts, I stayed trapped in my little apartment. It was a week later that I ran out of food and I knew the day would come that I'd have to step outside. What I wasn't expecting, was how different it had looked after only a week. Anyways, I guess I should introduce myself before I tell you the rest of my story. My name is Grace Dixon. I'm twenty-five years old, I was a med student in Georgia before moving to Atlanta in search of my older brothers Daryl and Merle and I'm a survivor of the zombie apocalypse. This is the story of how my life changed rapidly the second I opened the door to my apartment.