Author's Note: I will outright admit that I am fully new at writing stories. The only experience I have is that I have a year of English Education under my belt, but that's about it. So please, lemme know what you think and what I can do to improve! This will hopefully be my first long-term story, and I would like for it to be at least readable~

Chapter One: Introductions

Fuck it was hot. I couldn't even remember the last time it was this humid; combined with that damned smell of rotting flesh and vomit brought the occasional bile to the back of my throat. The sun glared down upon the apocalyptic wasteland now known as Chicago, the wind no longer blowing to grace it's subjects with it's presence. Maybe it felt that the world no longer needed it, now that nearly all of it's denizens were either dead or near-death?

I wiped my forehead with the back of my forearm, my dull, green eyes staring bleakly ahead. I didn't like the heat, not at all. Stripped down to only the necessary layers of clothing, I pulled my hair back into a low ponytail, hoping to fan some air onto the back of my neck. Sweat clung to my tee and jeans, I could feel it dripping down and taste the sweat. It made me feel...gross. I made a grimace; I did not like to feel gross. Glancing around the decrepid remains of the once-bustling city, I let out a sigh. Humanity was gone, and was never coming back, that was for sure. But I wasn't alone, no. I had no human companions to keep me company, too risky in my opinion, but I had the two best friends I could ever have; a coonhound named Buck and a pit bull named Fury. Thankfully, these two caused less of a presence than an entire group of survivors. Animals didn't seem to warrant much attention from the infected.

That reminds me, I nearly forgot my name. My name is Eliza, and I am one of the last remaining humans on the face of the planet. Or at least I think I am. I'm short, around 5 feet 4 inches, I used to be a good 140 pounds but now I've lost a ton of weight. I think I'm around 100. Not sure. I used to be an average adult before the infection; paid my bills on time, drove to work, went to vet school, the works. I had a family, that was now dead. My mother and sister, infected; my father, crushed by a Charger. Somehow I had managed to escape the infection, despite being bled on, bitten, scratched, puked on. I guess by this point it's safe to assume I'm immune. Now, I spend my days running from safehouse to safehouse, worrying about my two companions more than anything. I've killed many people, and I'm certainly not proud of it. While I know they're infected, I take no joy in killing, but they certainly take joy in trying to harm me.
Glancing at Buck and Fury, they merely seemed to smile in their doggy ways. They had no idea of the gravity of the situation; for them, ignorance truly was bliss. We were simply on an adventure. While things were quiet, I preened over both of them, removing any ticks, fleas, and just giving them a patdown to comfort them. Buck was the older of the two, a solid 7 year old coonhound, and a damn good one at that. There was nothing he couldn't find, pills, medkits, weapons, food, anything that was needed, and he seemed to have a good sense as to what I needed. If I was hurt, off he would go to find a medkit. I would worry, but I know the infected wouldn't really hurt him, as they didn't see him as an enemy. When it came to fights, however, he didn't like to hurt anybody. But don't take that as him being a coward, he would fight if backed into a corner. He prefered to sniff out a horde miles away, and lead me around them. Fury, on the other hand, was my tough-guy, a 2 year old American pit bull. If he thought I was even in the slightest bit of danger, he'd take on a Tank in the face. I watched him take out so many Infected before I could even get my fireaxe in their neck. He hated the Infected; to him, they weren't people. He liked people, how he loved it when we met other Survivors, but these things weren't people. I guess maybe the virus just made them inhuman to him. But if Buck and I were avoiding a group, he'd always reluctantly trudge along. Both of them were good boys, and I owed my very lives to them. So I always made sure that they were well taken care of, even if it meant I went to sleep without food.

Sighing, I glanced back out at the deserted road. Not a common to be seen, thank goodness. It's too hot for that nonsense, I silently thought to myself. Buck and Fury must have thought so too, both were as relaxed as I had ever seen them. My thoughts turned immediately back to finding the next safehouse, as I was sure both of them were as thirsty as I was.

"C'mon, you two", I muttered to them. "Let's get."
My limbs groaned and my muscles screamed for me to sit back down, but I ignored the aches, starting to trudge along the sidewalk, my two dogs at my side, my hand on my knife. Just in case.

It had been hours since we had taken a sitdown break, so my muscles were too sore to even complain anymore when night finally fell in the deserted city. And just like the desert sun, once nighttime fell, it chilled. Badly. Thankfully I had a spare hoodie in my bag and had it wrapped around me in seconds. My companions stuck close to me; the infected thrived in the darkness and neither of them wanted to stray far away. I couldn't detect much movement, but did make a mental note of the car that still seemed to be blinking. It had an alarm, great care must be taken to avoid it.

Buck suddenly began to whimper, my head jolting back forwards, watching a small group of infected just sitting around. One of them emptied it's stomach contents right in between it's legs, sniffed promptly, and just laid down in it. I had to hold down the rising urge to vomit myself. Fury's fur began to prickle, a near-silent growl emitting from him. Placing a single hand on him, it was my way of saying to stay put. Looking past the infected, I caught a glimpse of the bright red, metal door. A safe house! We were so close, I could taste it! There didn't seem to be a way around the infected, so I would have to do this the hard way.

I raised my hand from Fury's back and issued a single command.

"Kill."

Within half a second, Fury's cry of war rang out and his jaws latched into the throat of the nearest infected. The others watched with half-hearted interest, until they saw me. Anger surged through them and they all bolted towards me. Fingers clenched tightly around my axe, I swung it up into the air and brought it down with a sickening crack into another's skull. Screams of hatred filled the road as the infected plopped down with a silent thud, forever cured of the infection and life itself. One swing after another left gaping wounds in the infected, but they seemed not to mind, continuing to swarm us. Fury had already disemboweled three infected and was latching onto another, when I heard a shrill giggle.

"Jockey!" I cried, right as the monster leapt at me, giggling his delight.

Buck leapt to intercept, headbutting the creature off-course and clamping his jaws around the Jockey's throat, giving one swift tug. It laid dead, that ghastly smile still plastered on it's face.

"Nice one Buck!" I grinned, which was soon erased when the world seemed to go quiet. And all I heard was the shrill beeps of the car alarm.
An infected had stumbled against it in it's death, and had set it off, alerting the horde.

"Shit..c'mon!" I grabbed Buck and Fury by their collars, as the roars of the infected followed us closely behind, along with the pounding of several hundred shoes upon the pavement. There would be no way for us to fight that, it was too much for one person and two dogs. We made a mad dash towards the safe room, as some of the faster infected managed to catch up to us, digging their bloodied fingers into my back and arms. The pain escalated, but I knew we'd be in a world of hurt if we didn't get into the safe room.
The door kept getting closer. I grinned to myself..we were going to make it!
Until the Smoker decided otherwise.

Before it even bellowed it's arrival, I felt the slimy appendage wrap itself around my foot and jerk me backwards, towards the arms of death. I screamed, both in distate and fear. But the infected didn't count on Fury's speed and strength. Barreling through the faster infected that managed to catch up to me, he locked his jaws around the appendage as it snapped in half, the Smoker yelling his disapproval at losing one of his tongues. That didn't matter, I pulled myself up and sprinted with Fury towards the safe house, locking it behind me. Gasping, listening to the pounding of the infected.
We managed to escape. Thank heavens.