Half-Blood Angel
"TRACKERS! GET THE KIDS INSIDE! EVERYONE ELSE OUTSIDE!"
The moment I said the word trackers, the kids started calling for their guardians. You see, a few years ago, there was am epidemic that did some severe damage to the worlds population. It started out with a poor little boy who had accidentally stepped on a rusty nail. It turns out that the disease he had contracted turned people zombielike. The strain of the virus had mutated creating different types of zombies, the ones that we are defending our tight knit group from right now are somewhat common. They are the most recent mutation of the virus. We call them trackers because they are really persistent and have noses better than a dog's nose.
Great, I just ran out of ammo. I took out the two daggers I found a few years ago-one was made of diamond and the other was made of some alloy of titanium and some other metal I couldn't identify, both daggers had serrated edges and started slashing away at the Trackers. Some words of advice, if you ever come face to face with trackers, even just one of them, never go hand-to-hand with them. The smell of them is not pleasant in the least. Thankfully, I had a mask on that prevented me from smelling them. I was using it to block the wind from my face earlier as it gets kind of cold without one on. There I go babbling again. All of my friends think that the apocalypse has finally gotten to me. They tell me that they hear talking to things that aren't there, which isn't true. The policy of the little group that I'm part of is to never leave people behind no matter what state of mind they are in. Unless they happen to have a zombie's way of thinking, then we either kill them or leave them to die. The truth is that I see spirits. If you're wondering whether zombies have souls, the answer is yes they do. Once the zombie dies, the soul of the person of who they were before they turned emerges and will either linger or crossover. I feel an obligation to help them understand what's going on after if they linger. Like now, there was the spirit of a woman who wouldn't leave. She was looking around at the dead bodies with a lost expression on her. She was pretty tall with high heels and work clothes with her brown hair in bun. Her bifocals were a bit small, I wonder how she even saw anything through them?
"Ma'am, is there something bothering you?"
"Can you tell me what happened? How did I get here?"
"Well, what do you remember?"
"Let's see, I remember watching the clouds from my office window during my lunch break and then some rude person bit me. Then an intense headache and then..." she paused frowning while trying to remember what happened. "Nothing after that except finding myself here after a few seconds of blackness." So yeah, that's basically the standard answer I get from dead people today with a little variation of her answer. Some of them remember more than she does but not very many.
A/N:
Is it good? Is it bad? I wanna know what you guys think. If you have any questions, just ask. I'll get to you as soon as I can, which is usually pretty fast since I don't have much of a life outside of school :P. So yeah, if you liked it, please follow and/or favorite. See you guys next chapter :)