Quick Note: This is indeed a Elder Scrolls FanFiction, but obviously a little different. It's set in a modern time (actually a little bit into the future, 2050 to be exact.) The main character is Delphine, and that's about it. Enjoy.

Survivors

Delphine POV:

August 13, 2020: A businessman in Moscow comes down with a strange cough, but carries on with his daily life. He is later named patient zero.

July 19, 2021: Patient zero becomes bedridden.

July 20, 2021: Patient zero's infection reaches his brain, he becomes the first zombie.

January 17, 2022: The United States government begins project Survival to fortify cities against zombies.

March 11, 2022: The Survival project is complete, cities are fortified to house survivors and prevent zombie invasions.

October 25, 2024: Nations across the globe begin to fall.

December 22, 2025: The United States of America does away with any democracy, martial law takes full control.

June 10, 2050: All is destroyed. No hope in sight. Zombies outnumber survivors. This is the end of humanity.

I close my journal, the family behind me jumping at every sound they hear. I can't help rolling my eyes. The family was huddled close to the border, and the father almost shot me when I approached them. My United States Secret Service badge is vertically worthless (our last real president was Hillary Clinton and her second term ended a while ago, so I don't really protect anyone anymore), but the family still demanded to see it. When they saw it they begged me to take them across the border to Texas (I was in Mexico looking for a supposed 'safe haven', the haven ended up being a hoax set up by bandits). I should have refused them, but I didn't. I was trained to help any person in the United States, and they were technically on the north side of the border. So, I helped them this far. But we're getting close to Brownsville. Brownsville was heavily populated, and the zombies are probably overrunning the town. I doubt there are even survivors.

I stop, turn back to the family, and point towards California. "California is that way. I hope you find who you're looking for.". The mother nods, whispers something to her children, and the family quickly leaves my presence. I adjust my Dragon Skin bulletproof vest, I'm sweating bullets beneath it due to the burning Texas sun. But I'd rather be hot than shot. My riot helmet is a little too big, but it works. The pants I'm wearing are thin, but they protect me from bug bites. My hiking boots are worn and fit my feet perfectly. The Sig Sauer 9mm pistol in my hand is loaded and ready, twenty magazines jingle around in my backpack. I lick my lips, put my gun in its holster (I remove the suppressor and place it in my pocket), and pull my canteen from my hip. I drink a few gulps of water, then put the canteen back on my hip. My stomach growls and demands food. My only source of food is half of a rabbit I killed yesterday.

I try to ignore my snarling stomach, but eventually I give in and finish off the meat. Oh well, I can hunt later. As I walk I pull out my map. There's a small hotel outside of Brownsville. The town is probably crawling with the undead, but the hotel seems far enough away. There might be a few zombies, but nothing I can't handle. Being a part of the Secret Service had a few advantages, and one of them is I can shoot a target almost perfectly from two hundred meters away. Most zombies are too slow or stupid to move very fast, so I can easily take out thirty per minute. The sun is setting, so I break into a light jog. A few buildings are off to my right, but I ignore them. I'm almost out of hearing distance when something catches my attention. I stop, listen, and hear it again. A scream. Damn it. I pull out my gun, slam the silencer on, and begin to run towards the scream. I reach the abandoned house, but the door is locked.

I stand back, kick the door in, and charge to the rescue. I nearly trip over the dead body, but correct myself and stay on my feet. A young woman is screaming, barely able to keep the zombie at arms distance. The creature has stumps where its arms were, but it's still snapping at the woman. I see a shotgun at her feet, but it's not doing her much good. I aim at the zombie's head, yell to get its attention, and blast the creature's head off when he looks at me. The body slides to the floor and the woman backs up, fumbling for her shotgun. I raise my arms up as she picks up her weapon and tell her, "Hold your horses, I'm not going to hurt you.". She looks terrified, but nods. Then, she starts fiddling with her gun. I can easily see why. Her pump action shotgun was made by Caracal, one of the shittiest brands ever. And, it's obviously been used by other people. The gun jammed, so she couldn't defend herself. The skinny, pale, auburn haired girl looks only sixteen or seventeen. Too young to remember a world without zombies.

I whistle to get her attention, her green eyes locking on mine. I ask her, "Were you bit or injured?". She shakes her head and I turn to leave, but she coughs to get my attention. I turn back around and she says, "T-Thank you. D-Do you want some food? My group-". She motions eastward, her hand practically shaking. She's stuttering and obviously nervous, but that may just be because she was nearly killed. I'm wary of trusting strangers, but the girl is too young to be a bandit. So, I nod and tell her, "Lead the way.". She turns around, begins walking, and adjust the silencer on her gun. As we walk she asks me, "W-What's your name?". I keep my eyes peeled and tell her, "Delphine.". She swallows and asks, "D-Do you want to travel with my group? There are only five of us.". I shrug and tell her, "Maybe.". But I have no intention of going with her group, I'm better when I'm working alone.

I ask the woman, "Why were you alone if you were with a group?". Her face turns red and she answers, "They sent me to go loot. My gun jammed when I tried to kill the zombie.". I nod in understanding. My gun is top of the line, so it never jams (well it hasn't so far). But her shotgun looks ancient and the brand that made it was known to cut corners. It's a miracle it hasn't blown up in her face yet. Then, the woman stops and whistles three sharp notes. I'm about to tell her she's going to attract zombies, but then I see four shapes moving towards us. I'm not sure where they were hiding, but they were well hidden. When they're all gathered the woman who I saved points at a tall, tanned boy and says, "This is Hadvar.". The brown haired boy blinks his blue eyes and nods. The red-haired girl points at a short, thick woman and says, "Hulda.". The woman nods, then the woman I saved points at a thin, black youth and introduces me, "J'zargo.". Finally, she points at a woman just as pale as her and says, "Uthgerd.".

She motions to me and says, "Delphine.". Hadvar twitches his hand in greeting, gives his group (I'm assuming he's the leader) commands, and motions for the zombie attack survivor to follow him. I hear the survivor and him talking (it seems he's not happy about her bringing me back), but they eventually resolve the conflict and come back over to the group. I sit by the survivor as the group huddles around the fire. I think the smoke will attract zombies, but J'zargo ignores my advice. He hangs some deer meat over the fire, then we all just sit there. I clear my throat and ask, "What city are you all from?". The 'Survival' project failed, but a few cities are still fortified. They're run by the 'army', zombies can easily get in, and the 'generals' are really tyrants, but a lot of people still live in the cities. Hadvar tells me, "New York, New York.". Hulda says, "Fort Worth, Texas.". J'zargo snarls, "Oklahoma City, Oklahoma.". Uthgerd happily announces, "Albuquerque, New Mexico.". I turn to the survivor and she exclaims, "St. Louis, Missouri.".

Without thinking I tell her, "Go Cardinals.". She looks extremely confused and asks, "What?". I wave my hand and tell her, "Never mind.". I'm fifty, but the girl isn't even twenty. There's no way she could know that her hometown's baseball team's mascot use to be a cardinal. The girl simply shrugs it off and begins talking to J'zargo, the man grunting and nodding at the right areas. The sun is down by the time the deer is done, but I stay and eat it. The group falls silent as we devour the animal's flesh. When I'm done I move to leave, but Hadvar says, "It' dangerous out there. Sleep with us for the night, J'zargo will keep watch.". I really want to get going, but I'm tired. So, I nod, get out of my armor, and lie down to go to sleep. My gun is right beside me. I'm half asleep when the survivor curls up next to me. She probably feels safer around me. Her own mistake. I ignore her and go to sleep, tiredness seeping into my very bones.

I'm awoken by a blood-curdling scream. I bolt up, put on my armor, and prepare my gun. I blow five zombies heads off before I see Hadvar struggling to escape a group of them. I'm about to help, but his head is ripped off before I can do anything. I flip around and take in all the information I can. Hulda is in ten pieces, J'zargo is missing his head, and as I watch Uthgerd blows her own brains out (I'm not sure if it's because she was bitten or she was surrounded). I see an opening and run, but trip over a lump in the ground. I look over my shoulder and see the survivor huddled on the ground, silently crying. Oh god. She must have been all the carnage and gone into shell shock. I try to leave her to her destiny, I really do. But I find myself forcibly yanking the woman up, and eventually I simply carry her in my arms. The remaining zombies seem satisfied with their meals, but I still run as quick as I can.

I manage to find a highway, a car on the side of the road. There's no way in hell it'll start. The battery is dead, the wheels are rotted, and I can see the engine has been stolen. But zombies are nearly blind and use smell and hearing to find their prey, the car will hide our smell and noises. No scent or sound, then no prey. I yank open one door (thank god all the windows are somehow intact), and throw the woman inside. When I climb inside I lock all the doors manually, then realize why the windows aren't shattered. It's a government car (probably from Houston or Dallas), the glass in bulletproof and more durable than regular glass. It's been here for years (that's obvious), but it'll hide us from zombies. The woman lets out a single long wail before passing out. I catch my breath and close my eyes, I want a few more hours of sleep. I can only imagine how the woman will react in the morning.

I'm awoken by the survivor shaking me, her eyes still red from crying. I rub my head and ask, "Are you okay?". She nods and I tell her, "I'm sorry about your friends.". She looks almost embarrassed as she says, "They weren't really my friends, Hadvar just promised my dad he would watch over me. I think they were all getting sick of me, they sent me on the most dangerous missions and gave me the worst supplies.". I nod in understanding and tell her, "I suppose I can understand, but why were you crying?". Her eyes water up again and she admits, "When you found me I was fighting my first zombie. I've seen dead ones before, but that was the first live one I'd ever seen. Hadvar told me they came in hordes, but last night.". She shakes her head and continues, "I didn't know what to do. I ran out of bullets, everyone was dying, and the zombies were everywhere. I guess I kind of just accepted I was going to die, and lied down and cried so I wouldn't see it coming. Without you I would be some zombie's breakfast.".

She whispers, "Thank you.". I nod and tell her, "It's not a problem, I couldn't leave you behind. When humans turn against one another and leave each other for dead, then the zombies truly deserve to inherit this ruin we call earth.". A sudden thought hits me. I can't just leave the woman. She just told me she doesn't know how to fight zombies, her entire group just died in front of her eyes, and I've saved her life twice. How on earth would I tell her, 'Great job now get lost'? I couldn't. If I did than I'm no better than the mindless creatures that ripped Hadvar apart. So, I ask her, "Where was your group heading?". She clears her throat, pulls a map from her backpack, and unfolds it. She points at where we are and says, "We were going to go to Yellowknife, Canada. The fastest way was straight up, but those areas are heavily infected. We were going to go up to Branson, Missouri and swing over to Yellowknife.". Her plan actually doesn't sound half bad. Canada was one of the better prepared countries, they managed to evacuate eighty percent of their population before the virus that caused zombies hit them full force.

And, eighteen of that twenty percent were on Vancouver Island, the other two percent are scattered. I'm certain some zombies near the border have crossed over, but Canada is still relatively free of zombies. If I remember correctly Yellowknife and Whitehorse were completely evacuated. There might still be a few zombies, but it'll be somewhat clean. Unlike America, Canada didn't fortify their cities. So, Yellowknife won't have any people coming to it for a 'safe haven'. If Yellowknife ends up being a bust, then she could live in the wilderness. But the woman will never get there. She's too incompetent. I could shoot her brains out, steal her map, and be in Canada in two months. But the survivor is a good woman, and I'm not a monster. So, I tell her, "This is a good plan. In three months we could be there. Any idea how to get there?". She shrugs and says, "I thought we could just hoof it.". I don't see a better option.

I'm about to leave, but the woman grabs my wrist. She nervously tells me, "I dropped my shotgun.". I reach behind me, pop my machete from its scabbard, and hand it to her. She looks confused, but takes it. We climb from the car, determine which was is north, and start walking. We'll walk north until we hit the border of Texas, then cut diagonally. As we walk I ask her, "You have any idea how to kill a zombie?". She shakes her head and I ask, "How old are you?". She calmly answers, "Sixteen.". She's a lot younger than I thought. "How come you aren't safe in St. Louis?". She clears her throat and says, "Gang activity, tyrants for leaders, and Hadvar took me away.". I keep asking her questions. "Ever shot a gun?". "A few.". That's good at least. "Any skills?". She comes up with a small list and says, "I can cook, I know what's poisonous and what's not, the military taught me to drive a little, and I'm willing to learn anything you can teach me.".

At least she's willing to learn. I tell her, "You aren't stuttering anymore.". She blushes and says, "I get nervous around intimidating people.". I don't bother asking her to explain, I've been told I'm intimidating more than once. As we walk I feel the sun beat down upon us, my armor causing me to sweat like a pig. I look over and notice how weak my companion is. She has no armor, her weapon is melee, and she's young. If a ground of bandits attacked us they would either kill her first, or kill me before they raped and killed the younger woman. I'll have to get her a gun and armor to help prevent that situation. Suddenly, the woman asks, "How old are you?". I grunt and tell her, "Fifty.". She snorts and says, "No way.". When I nod she says, "I saw you taking off your armor last night, no fifty year old has a six pack.". I roll my eyes and tell her, "I have to stay in good shape to escape zombies.".

She scoffs again and tells me, "You're the fittest person I've ever seen, and that's saying something.". A thought seems to hit her and she gasps. "You were alive before the virus!". I nod. I was born in 2000, twenty years before patient zero was first infected. She seems excited as she asks, "What was it like?!". I roll my eyes and ask her, "What was what like?". She reaches over, pushes my shoulder, and asks me, "What was it like not to wake up in fear? To go to bed in a safe place? What was it like to have a mother and father? Did-did you have any friends?". Her questions seem a little personal, but I answer them anyway, "It was wonderful to wake up and go to sleep without fear. I remember complaining about not getting enough sleep. It seems so trivial now. My mother and father were good people. Thankfully, they were old and died before the zombie infestation started. It sounds mean, but I'm glad my mom and dad didn't have to go through this.".

"I had a few friends, but not many. What about you, what's your story?". I don't know why I care, but it's conversation for the road. We may both be dead by tonight, but we can enjoy ourselves for now. She clears her throat and says, "I grew up in St. Louis. The city is poor, in ruin, and someone gets infected almost every day. My mom died giving birth to me, and my dad was scanned for infection. He came up positive and a soldier shot him, but the official report said he might have been clean and the machine simply malfunctioned. So, the government raised me. I had one friend, but she said something about the wrong person and got her brains blown out. Sometime before he died my father wrote a letter to Hadvar. I guess Hadvar and him were close, and Hadvar owed him a few. I'm not sure how many, but enough for Hadvar to travel half way across the country, illegally snatch me from the city, and protect me until six hours ago. That's about it.".

We both fall silent, but we feel no need to restart the conversation. Only a few things happen throughout the day. The survivor manages to kill a snake, I shoot a lone zombie in the face, and we find another survivor. He trades me twenty pounds of beef for one magazine of bullets. I'm sure I got the better end of the deal. When the sun begins to set I tell the survivor, "Time to bunk down.". She nods and follows me off the side of the road. We're in the marshy area of Texas, so there are plenty of trees. I scale one quickly, the woman following me. When I reach a thick area where branches overlap I lie down, the survivor curling up beside me. It's not that cold, but it's not warm. I take off my body armor, allowing my sweaty body to cool down. I close my eyes and try to fall asleep, the survivor beside me. We'll never make it to Canada by walking. We need horses or a car. I'll talk to her about it in the morning, but for now I fall asleep and dream. I dream of a world where zombies don't prowl the night or people blow their own brains out to escape them. I dream of the past.