-1-

Dan ducked into a stairwell, chest heaving, sweat beading. So close, he mused to himself, and wiped his sweat off. A flash of movement outside the entrance, and he was off again, sprinting down the winding stairway. Marc was down, Alonzo was on the verge of being hunted down, and everyone else was in a tight spot of some kind. Looks like I'm all alone on this one, he thought grimly, all too aware of the slap of Nikes against pavement behind him. Out of nowhere, a small yellow shape materialized in front of him- Denzel. Dan flinched and skidded to a halt.

"Are you caught?" Dan asked. "N-no," Denzel replied, then sprinted towards Dan. It was only when he was 5 meters away that Dan registered the falsehood. "You are caught, aren't you?" Dan spat.

"Yeah, sorry. End of the line, buddy," Denzel smirked, revealing a set of teeth as yellow as his shirt. Behind Dan, Ben caught up, and they both simultaneously rushed him. Even with a generously endowed frame, cornered like this in a narrow corridor, surrounded by catchers, Dan didn't stand a chance. Denzel reached over and tapped him on the shoulder. And just like that, Dan lost the game.

The runners and catchers congregated at the second playground beside the pool, shortly after the last runner was hounded down.

"Good game, guys," Denzel said, walking around shaking hands with everyone he considered popular. Except Dan.

"Was it really, Denzel?" Dan snarled, "I wasn't aware you were allowed to lie to other runners until you got close enough. "

"Hey, all's fair in love and war." Denzel laughed. No one else joined him.

"That's really low, man," Marc said weakly, trying and failing once again to 'fit in'. Dan sighed inwardly. He has much to learn. Heads drooped, bodies quaking with exhaustion, the two brothers trudged home.

Dad was at the kitchen sink, preparing some exotic and inevitably disgusting seafood dish, while Mom fried some more palatable looking salmon. "Get changed, unload the dishwasher, and set the table." Dad barked without looking up.

"Yes Dad," The siblings replied simultaneously. 15 years living with a robot-like man who demanded clockwork consistency had given them a pretty good indicator of what to expect. They headed down the hallway, pausing at the master bedroom to stare at their youngest brother Isaac, who seemed to be preparing some bizarre ritual to summon the pillow god, or whatever god was responsible for brutally mistreated pillows. Heading into the shower, Dan playfully shoved Marc against the wall and immersed himself in the hot water.

The dinner table was quiet -Dad wasn't in the mood for banter and nothing interesting was going on.

"Have you guys heard?" Isaac exclaimed abruptly, trying to break the awkward silence, "Biodome is inventing a test serum to cure cancer! They'll be injecting the serum into cancer patients tonight at 7pm, on live TV! Wanna watch?"

"It's no big deal," Dan replied unhurriedly, " People come up with supposed 'miracle cures' all the time. And do you really want to watch 45 minutes of people getting injected with liquid?"

Marc burped in response, his way of saying that he was full and did not care anything about the current topic.

Dan sighed. "I'm going to bed, guys," He announced, in the hopes that someone at the table actually cared. Then he did the dishes, and walked down the long corridor to his room, where he promptly fell asleep.

-2-

Screams erupted as panicked civilians fled the burning building. A chunk of roof, weakened by the scorching heat, fell, reducing a pregnant lady and her plump husband to a bloody pulp. Flecks of gore and the telltale white of skull bone covered the people running at breakneck speed to join the chaotic crowd of baying, half asleep families, almost as if they were driven not by fear but by…hunger. A young woman screamed as a rotting man took a bite out of her shoulder. Dan sat straight up in bed, heart pumping, adrenaline rushing, all thoughts of a late morning gone. Relax, relax, he told himself, It's just a dream. And then the woman screamed again and Dan caught a whiff of civilization burning. This was all too real. He swung out of bed and sprinted to the closet, flinging on a denim shirt and khaki shorts with a chain link belt before heading into his parent's room. And stopped, open-mouthed. The room was empty, the windows were open, and blood stains spotted every conceivable surface. Worst of all, Dad's wrapped katana-cloth handle frayed with age but sharper than carbon steel- was gone. Dan shook his head. A master swordsman like Dad would never draw or even touch his legendary sword unless absolutely necessary. Filled with foreboding, Dan tiptoed to his siblings shared room.

"Hello?" He whispered - to no avail. The room was empty too, like Dad's room but without the blood spots. Screaming internally, Dan ran into the living room – and froze. Because not six meters away from him, a man was eating Sun Yi's face. And then the man looked up.

Ohshitohshitohshit, Dan mouthed as he backed against the wall, the man following his every move with those milky white eyes. The man growled- a low, animalistic sound that sent shivers up Dan's spine. Flustered, Dan glanced around for a weapon, and his hand closed around the hammer that Dad used yesterday to repair a faulty springboard. Silently thanking the gods that Dad had forgotten to put it back to the toolbox, Dan brandished it at the man, a small lump of metal the only thing between him and a bloodthirsty maniac. "Stop right-" The man sprang at him.

Dan instinctively lurched away, tripping over a plastic bucket in the process. The man clambered on top of him, saliva hanging from his bloodstained teeth. Screaming, Dan flailed the hammer at the man, and his nose collapsed with a sickening crunch. Unaffected, the man lunged for Dan's throat, teeth bared. Acting on instinct, Dan smashed the man's head aside, bringing the hammer down as hard as he could on the front of the man's forehead. Crunch. The man moaned, and reached for Dan. Crunch. The man fell flat to the ground, quivering. Crunch. The man sprawled on the ground, unmoving.

Stumbling back, Dan gasped, breath sawing from his throat. Somewhere in another world, a hammer dropped from nerveless fingers. What had he done? You killed a man, his brain replied. But it wasn't his fault, he was being assaulted! You killed a man, his brain responded. Dan shook his head, and stepped back. It was time to get out of here.

Dan grabbed a leather duffel bag, and began packing. Toiletries, Canned food, phone, medical kit, 4 portable chargers, 3 kitchen knives, a black T-shirt, lumberjack jeans, and a thick leather coat. He tucked the gore-encrusted hammer into his belt. Then he took a deep breath, and swung the front door open.

A scene of chaos met him. Whole blocks were on fire, and balconies around the pool were teeming with the undead. Despairingly, Dan scanned the perimeter for any sign of life. There! On the clubhouse rooftop, a straggling group of kids were making a last stand against the zombies swarming up the spiral staircase. A boy caught sight of Dan, and waved frantically. With a start, Dan realized the boy was Marc. I have to get there, fast, he thought, as he sprinted down the emergency stairway to ground level, feet slapping the pavement as he hurried to the clubhouse.

By the time he got there, things were getting out of hand. The few remaining survivors had no chance of holding off the multitude of undead with the makeshift weapons they had, and were soon to be overwhelmed. Dan looked at the throng of undead clambering up the staircase, and then at his hammer, which now seemed pathetically small. No way in hell I can take them all out, he thought. Unless..

Thinking fast, he buried his hammer into the nearest zombies, stomach twisting in revulsion as he tried to get nearer to the support struts of the staircase. As he suspected, years of misuse and rust had eaten away at it, and it now groaned under the weight of the undead horde. The only thing standing between it and collapse was a few axe strokes. Or in this case, a few hammer strokes. Dan raised the hammer and brought it down. One, Two. The chain quivered, then broke. No time to think! Dan grabbed the handrail of the bending staircase and shimmied upwards, even as the zombies on the stairwell swayed and toppled as the staircase fell. A zombie barely upright bit into his arm, but even though the good leather jacket he had on turned the bite, Da felt pain shoot up his arm. Enough to make him lose his grip on the rung he was holding. As Dan clung to the rail with his remaining good arm, groaning, on a slowly toppling staircase filled with moaning undead, he gauged the distance to the top of the staircase with the amount of time he had left before the staircase gave way, and knew he would never make it. Out of time and options, Dan planted both feet on the handlebar and leaped upwards, drawing on the strength in his calf muscles. A leap of faith.

It was only a few seconds, but in that time, an eternity passed. Dan saw it all, the collapsing staircase, the zombies snarling as they fell, or crowding below him, ravenous for flesh, the worried faces of those on top. The ground rushed up to meet him.

And then his right arm was grabbed by Alonzo, who hoisted him up to the rooftop, grunting with exertion.

Dan lay on the rooftop, panting with exhaustion, thanking his many workout sessions. He was still soaking in his sweat when a burst of spontaneous applause roused him. Dan looked around, and discovered that practically the whole neighborhood's teenagers and kids were here.

"Dan! You're okay!" Marc yelled, practically weeping with relief. Dan narrowed his eyes.

"Funny how you should be so concerned about me after LEAVING ME FOR DEAD!" Dan shouted, his voice steadily rising.

Marc held up his hands in a placating gesture. "We had no choice! A man came in at 2am, bleeding like a stuck pig. We dressed his wounds, left him alone, and the next thing you know, BAM! The guy turns into a meatbag! We meant to warn you, but…" Marc trailed off.

"It's okay, " Dan said, pacified. "But why was Sun Yi in our house?"

"Dunno. Maybe she came to ask for help. Where is she?"

"Dead."

"Oh." Marc shuddered.

"Hey, it's okay bro. I'm here, and I'm still in one piece." Dan said, in a vain attempt to comfort his brother.

"More importantly, you saved us." A flirtatious voice said from behind him. Dan turned sharply and found himself face to face with Gladys. His face darkened. "Piss off." Murmurs of agreement and anger rumbled from the kids who were now clustered around Dan.

"Where's Isaac?" Dan asked, only to receive a horrified look from Marc.

"I thought he was with you!" Marc shouted, then squatted down, hugging himself. "Jumping jiminey cricket."

"Never mind. We'll cross that bridge when we come to it." Dan's face was grim.

"Well, since we're all here, why don't we take stock of our belongings and formulate some plan to get off this godforsaken rooftop?" Denzel asked.

"Yeah Dan, that seems to be a good idea," Alonzo echoed, and the kid's eyes all turned to Dan. They look up to me, Dan realized with a start.

"Well, first off, I think we should cover all the exits and entrances. The zombies haven't used the interior staircase yet, but when they do, we're screwed. Denzel and Dexter, take the wooden chairs and tables in the lounge and barricade the stairwell. Me and the other kids will do a head count and patch up their scrapes." Dan said, and the other kids, most below 12 years of age, scrambled to action. All but one.

"And who made you the boss, I'd like to know?" Denzel whined, bringing everyone to a halt. "If anyone should be the leader of these saps it should be me! I'm 3 whole months older that you! So thanks, but I'm out!"

Marc punched him in the face. "Listen, pretty boy. In case you haven't noticed, we're in the middle of a bloody apocalypse and the only way off this building is the interior staircase, which is infested with meat bags. So unless you got a better idea or some rope, shut your mouth and listen to the one guy here that has his shit together." Marc snarled, as Denzel wiped a thin streak of blood from his face, shocked.

"Looks like your bro is finally growing a pair of balls. Good job with the staircase back there by the way," Alonzo casually remarked to Dan, before walking off to calm a group of crying toddlers.