Sitting at the kitchen counter at eight in the morning was never something I would find myself doing five years ago. But that was before my son came along. Right now my son and I are in Georgia visiting family and house sitting. My cousin and her family went on vacation and I volunteered to house sit for her. My son came barreling into the kitchen yelling "ba ba" . I turned to pick him up and noticed the TV. I put him in his high chair, gave him his dry cereal and ba ba, then turned and walked to the little TV. I stood there and watched in complete disgust as I watched soldiers shoot innocent civilians. As I looked a little closer, it dawned on me that these are not regular people…in fact, they look…dead. I jerked my head back to my son to make sure he was doing fine and started to panic. If the dead were walking, what the hell are we going to do!? Oh shit! Where do we go!? How will I get everything we need in such short time!? My thoughts were racing. The news told everyone that there were safe places in Atlanta. That's only half an hour from here! Okay, time to start packing. I went to my son and kissed him. He giggled and played as I ran to the guest room to get our things.
After I had the truck packed up with my son's food, drinks, clothes and bath products, along with all the things I will be needing for myself, I got him dressed and put him in the truck. As I walked around the truck I heard screaming coming from down the street. I turned to look at where it was coming from, and saw a younger girl running from a house down the road. She was covered in blood and panicked. She looked terrified. I turned to the truck and reached into the other side of the drivers seat to grab it. I pulled out my 9 mil glock, locked the truck, shut the door and ran for the little girl.
When I got to her, I could tell she was simply covered in blood and not bleeding. "Hey! Hey! Are you alright!? What's wrong!?" I looked her up and down and watched her shake all over. Her eyes were puffy from crying and bloodshot, probably from fear. "Mommy! They got my mommy!" I turned towards the house and told her to stay outside. I ran into the house where the little girl had just come from and heard what sounded like a snarling animal coming from the kitchen. I slowly walked into the room and saw two people crouched over a woman. She wasn't screaming or kicking in fear…she was actually really still. As I walked closer, I saw blood. Lots and lots of blood. I stumbled and the two people turned to look at me. That's when I knew what was going on. These weren't people…these were zombies. It sounds so ridiculous that the things I used to read comics about are here and actually exist. When they turned towards me, I saw blood running down their faces and pieces of god only knows what hanging from their teeth. They looked rather intact for being a dead person. I started to walk backwards away from them as they started to come towards me. I pulled back on the gun to make sure there was a round in the chamber and aimed. I figured from the comics I used to read, a shot to the brain would stop them. So I aimed the gun, inhaled, calm my nerves, exhaled and pulled the trigger twice. Lucky for me I hit both of them in between the eyes. Of course it wasn't something to be proud of. It was practically point blank. I shook off the fact that I just shot what used to be a human, in the head and ran out of the house back into the street. The little girl was still standing where I left her and I grabbed her arm. "Come on, there's nothing we can do now." "No! Where's my mom!? I can't leave her! Where is she!?" I looked at her and tried not to tear up seeing her devastation. "Sweety there is nothing we can do. She's gone. But those…things… they're gone too." She cried a little more, then looked at me. "Thank you!" I nodded and stared running back to my truck. She naturally followed. I got to the truck, unlocked it. She climbed in the passenger seat and I jumped in the driver side. I looked back to the back seat to see if my son knew I was gone and saw he was asleep. He hadn't even realized I left.
I looked over at the little girl. "What's your name?" She looked down as she sniffled a little bit. When she looked up at me, she had put such a brave face on. "Emma. What's yours?" I gave her a small smile. "Well Emma, it's nice to meet you. My name is Lucille, but you can just call me Lucy. How old are you?" She gave a small smile back to me. "I just turned 12." I nodded at her and started the truck and pulled out of the drive way. I got out my phone and called everyone back home that was dear to me. Turns out, my family had done what we joked about doing if the zombie apocalypse ever came, and were holed up in the local prison. When my mind was eased by that news, I started driving down the street. Emma was looking out the window and watching people running out of their houses screaming and being chased by those things. "What is going on!? Why is this happening?" She looked at me. "Can we help them?" I blanched at her innocent face. I rolled down my window and pulled my gun out of my lap. I aimed at three of those dead freaks and shot them through the head. The family I had saved had an infant that they were trying to get to their car. The man yelled his appreciation to me and hurried his family into the van, along with the family dog. I nodded at them and rolled my window back up. Emma was still looking at me. "We have to conserve ammo." She nodded and looked straight forward. "I want to help. I can help." I looked at her and reached in the back seat. On the floorboard I found what I was looking for. I pulled it up to the front seat and handed it to her. She looked at the crowbar and back at me. "Can you swing a bat?" She nodded. "I play softball. Well, I used to…" I looked at her. "Guns need bullets, and we will eventually run out. Using your hands and swinging something is easier and you'll never run out." She took the crowbar and stared at it. I turned on the radio to listen to the recent news reports as we left finally turned off the street and towards the highway.