Intro

Setting down the Street,

The Searcher wanders down.

Though the walking hurts his feet.

He searches for a cure never to be found.

The sickness, has driven the rest of the world mad

It's a grim place. Completely Sad.

Chapter 1

Back on 12/21/2010 people freaked out thinking that the world was going to end. It did in a sense they never figured would.

In Sacramento, California a virus was released. within hours the virus spread to Phoenix, Arizona. The government tried to stop it by setting off a bomb at the "Dead Zone" of Sacramento. The bomb didn't stop the virus, to be honest I never thought it would, it mutated those who fell to the disease and they began to rise from the dead.

The disease spread to New York by the afternoon of the 21st. The bomb succeeded in mutating the virus so much that it didn't affect anyone via the air. There were ways to become zombified through saliva, and bodily fluids. I remember having to kill my best friend John Sanderson, his wife and his beautiful baby daughter who was only three when the Zlant broke in and bit the three of them. By the time I was 36, which was an 11 years after the outbreak, I had slaughtered about 5,000 zombies. I remember the stench coming off their bodies after I blew their brains out of their skulls with a boomstick, that can't kill them though, their body regenerates, the only thing I know of on how to kill them is to burn them, and even that may not work.

Now here it is September 2nd and I'm staring out through the cracks of the rotting boards covering the windows of this old abandoned school-house in the southern part of what was used to be known as, Illinois. Behind me sits The Resistance… a group of wandering soldiers trying to "cleanse" the large cities of the zombies, from what I've heard from guys in the group, they kill a shitload of zombies and drag them to the center of the road and Flambé the fuckers.

"Fuckin' World we live in." said Neil

"Mhm," I replied "This is the happiest place on Earth this is."

"I wonder what those fuckin' toads across the ocean are doin', bet theys biting them crumpets and smokin' them big old schigars, while we sit here in U.S. and suffer," Said Dwayne in his thick southern accent.

There are 5 other guys in this troop besides me. There's Neil who's the youngest guy in our group he was only 7 when the virus took over. He's only 140 pounds and is thin and stringy, on his military fatigue he wears a make shift bullet vest and in each hole he carries his weapon of choice, The Molotov Cocktail. The crazy bastard almost blew his entire hand off because the rag in the bottle was short and blew up about 5 feet from him, the flame didn't touch him but the glass shards hit his face and left him scarred but alive.

Dwayne is a corn-fed colossus. He stands a tall 6'8 and over 300 pounds. He also carries a bullet vest but, his actually has bullets. He uses a shotgun, I don't know the power of it but, it's strong.

Danny…not much is known about him…He never talks about himself. He wears nothing but a huge t-shirt which is about 3XL when he is easily a large at the most.

John is the craziest bastard around…He hotwires cars and drives them straight through crowds of zombies…He fights with melee weapons…I don't know how he's lasted these 11 years.

Then there's Carlos…he's on his last leg…literally, he's lost his leg…he was bitten on the last mission and he's expected to die in this school.

I sigh, and put down the notepad and paper and hide it in some drawer in the old teacher's desk… if I keep writing this down I'll end up reaching a mental breaking point and put a pistol to my skull.

I look up and turn the on a search light and shine it out the window and see a crowd of Crows.

"We're not alone," I say "a crowd of Crows are coming."

The crows look up and hiss at the bright light, in the light I can see caked blood on their beaks. I fumble and call out on walkie-talkie.

"Carlos? You up there?"

"You spot 'em to?"

"Are you coming down?'

"Yeah, looks like I'm gonna make a final stand against a crowd of Crows."

I look out of the window and see the Crows have entered school. I walk over and look out the classroom door and hear the metal pipe,that Carlos has used as makeshift crutch, coming down the stairs.

Clang…Clang…Clang

He comes into the door. He grabs a B.-P.A.C. and pours the contents on himself.

"Guys, I guess this is good bye."

We come out and look down the hallway and see the Crows coming. Carlos grabs a pipe bomb and lights the end.

We run up the stairs and I take a last glimpse of Carlos as he clenches the bomb in his teeth while the Crows pluck at him. I won't forget my last vision of him, seeing as the crow on his left bit into his eye.

I turn and run down the hallway.