Percy Latcher pulled down the trigger, and then released. Bullets flew out of the gun as he flashed a sly grin, continuing his rampage. The bullets met their targets, landing shots into their heads and chest. One bullet to kill one zombie. No wasting bullets. He was the marksman for the team, after all. He could not afford to miss a shot, or to miss out a single zombie. He took surviving in this zombie apocalypse seriously. The whole thing was the reason he wasn't in High School anymore. See, just a week ago, he had been in High School, until the zombies invaded the city, along with the school. He had escaped with three other high school students, all relatively his age, all much too young to be in this situation. He wanted to come out alive, along with the rest of the team. Hell, if he didn't, he'd make sure the rest avenge him - the zombies, they will pay. They were the reason so many of his friends died. How about his family? He didn't have a family. Percy was an orphan - his parents had both died when he was at a young age, too young to remember. Siblings? Nope, he didn't have any. He only had friends, even when he didn't have that much friends. And now, almost all of them were gone - because of the zombies. Percy had sworn to kill them all - every last one.

Click! Wait, was that the sound of his rifle, out of ammo? He pulled the trigger again. Click! Well, that was perfect timing! He though sarcastically as he scowled. No time to lose. He didn't have a back-up pistol - which was stupid. All he had left was his knives, three knives. There were ten zombies left, and he had only three knives. That was ridiculous. He intended to throw the knives, hurl them at the zombies. But with three knives and ten zombies left, how would he do that? He couldn't just run and stab them all to death. He'd get bitten within seconds.

And then of course, he thought of a crazy idea. And when Percy had an idea, it was usually suicidal.

Percy drew the first knife out of his belt. From the top of the building, it was easy to aim. He had to get back down towards the rest of the team who were in the building across. And honestly, standing at the top of the roof - at the edge, not to mention - was not exactly a walk in the park. But then again, this was the zombie apocalypse. Percy's fingers curled around the handle of the knife, tightening it's grip. He squinted his eyes, aiming down towards the closest zombie. He threw his am forward, releasing his grip on the knife at the last second, hurling it towards the zombie. The knife rammed down the zombie's head, piercing through it's albino skin. Blood spurted out of the head as the zombie fell to the floor. It definitely was a gruesome sight, but when you're in the zombie apocalypse, you get used to it.

That was one zombie down. Nine to go. He did the same with the second knife, and sent it hurling towards a zombie's chest. Blood exploded out of the zombie's chest, leaving yet another gruesome sight Percy would never forget.

Now it was time to get down to business. Percy slung his sniper rifle across his shoulder and whipped his neck towards the staircase that led to the bottom, the first floor, where he would exit the building. As he raced down the stairs, he tripped over something. Instead of letting gravity pull him down and making him fall face first onto the floor, he flipped his body so that he fell backwards. And then he shot back up on his feet, to see what he tripped on. And boy, he was one lucky guy. Because what he tripped on probably saved his life. He tripped on a pistol.

He scooped the pistol up and checked the ammo - three bullets, three shots left. Three shots meant three zombies dead, which would leave him five more - five more to skewer with a knife.

With great speed, Percy darted down the stairs until he reached the first floor. Immediately, he burst through the blood-stained glass door of the ruined hotel. Immediately, he let the shots fly, killing three zombies. He drew his knife, and he charged. He drove the knife up the first zombie's chest, and pulled it out. The zombie dropped dead on the floor. He dropped the pistol and sprinted to the zombie he had killed earlier, the one he had thrown a knife at. He hurled the knife straight towards the fourth zombie, but for the first time in a while, he missed. He cursed, before charging yet again. However, this time, he did something different. He did a front-flip, and with great gusto, he drove the knife right through the zombie's head as he was in the air. Bam, that was another zombie dead. Three more to go. He pulled the knife out, and he hurled it at the third zombie. Two more to go. He continued his massacre until the last zombie was dead. He grabbed his knives and showed them into his belt. He had killed so many zombies, all by himself. He was confident he would make it out alive.

Percy Latcher sprinted towards the building across, where he knew his friends were.

Hello everyone!

I hope you enjoyed reading this chapter! I will update very soon! Next chapter will be a chapter for the second survivor. It took me about an hour to write this chapter, so you can expect the next three chapters to be up in the next three days, hopefully.

Peace out

~Jordan/FrequentFiction