Chapter: 1

Nine Days to 66 Days

The military say that there isn't any life outside these fences, but how can they be sure? There has to be someone alive out there... how can every living thing die in nine days except within these fences? It just doesn't make sense. Chris was sitting on the rooftop, staring out to the city, getting a perfect view of the lifeless world. He had been visiting the rooftop often these past few days to get away from the people living in Madison's house and to get a breath of fresh air. It was his place to think.

He wasn't sure of how long he had been sitting up there, in his deep thoughts, but he didn't care. He would continue doing this till someone either needed him for something or fear that something terrible had happen to him. Either way, he just wanted away from this world, away from people. He had felt his world was being throwing away and everybody he seemed to know from civilization was vanishing into thin air like ghosts.

Sweat drips from Chris's forehead as he outruns a dozen walkers or so with a knife in his right hand. He's two minutes away from base camp and he plans to gather these few walkers to where he's headed. He knew the group wouldn't be too far away from the base site; Travis would be on the right side of the building, looking for the dead, Madison would probably be organizing or rationing supplies, as Daniel would be in the upstairs building, observing every little detail in each room, occasionally looking out windows to keep an eye out—even though his daughter would be on the look-out, Nick would be on the opposite side from Travis, checking the building as well, and Alicia would be downstairs doing the same as others would be doing. Strand had been with Chris in the beginning of gathering supplies, but eventually, Strand left.

Chris and Strand never really spoke, at least not in a conservation way; the two males had always kept it "business" and to the point. The only friend Strand really has here in the group is Nick. Chris had just come from a store when the half dozen walkers busted through around the corner. Chris muttered some few cuss words but never feared—yet—he learned roughly in the beginning that panicking doesn't get you anywhere when you're in a situation where you can die.

Basically every time you go somewhere, it's likely to die, so panicking every time you go somewhere wouldn't help you—unless it's to help you die sooner, then panicking would definitely help that.

Yelling not too loud, "Someone! Help!" Chris fell and immediately picked himself up and ran pass the gate of the once-private residences of the wealthy. Madison, who was organizing the supplies, ran to his help and quickly take out as many of the snarling creatures. Others had joined as well, but the ones who arrived first had already took care of it."Where's Strand?" Travis asked. His son shrugged and wiped his sweat off of his forehead. He didn't bother saying anything else to his dad and walked past him. Chris walked inside where he bumped into Daniel, who looked back at Chris and the figures who just appeared behind him, Travis and Nick.

"I think I know what happened to this place."

Nick felt his need gnawing at him every second that had passed by, his nerves tingling and his senses burned as his hunger grew more and more and it wasn't food he needed. He couldn't stop thinking about it. He heard an airplane soar through the sky—how in the hell can an airplane be flying if it's not military properties? The military said there wasn't anyone alive outside our area except the other eleven areas that are protected by the government. He shook his head to gather his thoughts back of searching for his shit. Nick rummaged the drawers, looking under whatever items, opened cabinets and mirrors, in hopes of finding something-anything-to help him. He sighed in annoyance when he didn't find what he was looking for.
He heard someone in the doorway and he turned to see his glaring mother standing there. They didn't exchange any words till Nick filled the air with: "What do you want me to say?"
He knew that his mom wasn't happy about this, but let's be honest, she couldn't possibly expect that it would be that easy to just slowly wean him off; once he got a feel of the drugs, he hungered for more; he needed more and more.
Such a helpless yet powerful thing addiction is.

"You don't know," Madison said, shaking her head. Six years of Nick's addiction piled up on her anger and disappointment, all the broken promises he made to both her and Alicia, the days and nights she spent worrying over her son and thinking where did I go wrong slapped over one another and she just couldn't take one more broken promise, another high hope led to utter disappointment. It made her so angry that he would do this again. Stephen's death didn't only happen to him, it happened to the whole family. Madison felt so broken and her son's spiral had stirred negative feelings up once more.

"What?"

She took a moment and then felt her hand strike his cheek and she did it again and again; despite the startled face that was plastered all over his face. She kept hitting and hitting till Nick slithered down the wall and froze in a ball position. Nick had been told to check the perimeter of the country club, and that's what he's doing. Travis had purposely been giving her work often, so Nick wouldn't have to think about the powerful cravings of heroin.

Helluva drug though.

The left side building was nearest to the majority of the lake, Nick has his screwdriver in his hand; his gun tucked in his pants. He whistled a tune so the zombies would hear him and come towards him and he would finish them off.

One "woke up," behind the large but sparse bushes, snarling and wobbles its way towards Nick. It had been dressed in snobby country club clothing; tacky-khaki shorts that went up above the knees and a used-to-be white polo shirt, now stained with blood, sludge, and had a hole on the right ribs—where the blood was most seen by; he had been shot which led him—whoever the hell this rich prick was—to his death. Totally looked like the kind of guy who was a prick and lived off of money more than oxygen. Nick jabs through the dead's ear and it fell to the grass.

This place looks good, it had been secure pretty damn good and no-one had been through this private residence before—otherwise people would have lived here or at least picked it clean; from what Nick had saw earlier, there's still food, alcohol, clothes, and who knows what else there would be.

Lost in his head for a few, he then noticed the female zombie that's slithering on the ground, arms raised up, pretty much saying in snarl language, "Hey, look at me! Feed me, I haven't eaten for too long—oh my, don't you look like a tasty fella?"

He noticed it couldn't walk because its legs had been bent at an awkward angle like she—as a human of course—had fallen from an excessive height.
Nick stabs it with ease but.. its language continued.
It didn't come from the one he had just killed, but the sound was almost as near as the one right in front of him.
Turning around, he had to find the source of the other one, but Nick didn't have to look any further; it was right behind him, and it was lunging for his flesh. Unlike the last, Nick stabs it with force and just as quick it had appeared, it remained still on the ground.

After Nick finished checking things out—for the third time—he heard a familiar voice and others shortly joining along, he ran to the front building and saw a few walkers. It wasn't much to worry, but it only takes one of those to kill the living. He managed to kill two before the air was filled with only minor panting either from moving too much or from fear. Nick was silent. He doesn't get worked up about a lot of things. He never really had except when it came to drugs or anything related. Needing to tell Travis about the left side, he followed Travis—who departed inside the building.

"I think I know what happened to this place."

Alicia walked into her much-loved neighbor's house and a wave of bittersweet memories come washing over her. She knew Aunt Su-Su her whole life; she watched Alicia grow up. She took care of Nick and her when they were sick and when their father died, she was there for them. She adored Susan. She was kind and had the love like an aunt to Nick and Alicia and a love and wisdom of an older sister to Madison. The house had felt hauntingly silent; all the days she spent in her neighbor's house, full of laughter and love. Everything had changed. She would never walk in here and see her warm smile and feel her loving arms tightly wrapping Alicia and Chris as Su-Su greeted them. She would never walk in here again and smell her wonderful cooking and hear her greet the two Clark siblings as they came through her door after school. She saw the orange, empty bottle lying there on the table and a pain shot through her heart. Walking down the hallway, she went into Susan and Patrick's bedroom. Where did he go? Will he come back to only find a place where she won't be here? Will he even come back? Great sadness shot through within her, she can't imagine the pain Patrick will go through when he gets back. Looking around the bedroom, her hands gravitated to the framed drawing that hung on the wall—her drawing, the seven-year-old Alicia's drawing. Sitting on the bed, clutching onto the drawing, she let out a tear. Then setting it aside her, she picked up a note and she already knew what it was about to say, tears falling again, she rereads:

"Patrick. If you find this I'm sorry, if you find this I love you. I saw something today, something that horrified me. At first I thought it was unnatural, I thought it was an aberration. But I was wrong. What I saw was prophesied. What I saw was Godly, and I think it's overdue. I wish you were here but I will see you soon. And you will hold me. If you find this, I am sorry. If you find this, I love you."

Alicia starts to feel her eyes heated a sensation she used to be so familiar with. She hadn't cried since she read Susan's note.. She shook those thoughts away immediately. She doesn't have enough energy to think about her, not in this mess and in this world that she, and the people she cared about the most, lives in. They've been travelling for about a week or so; stopping among places they thought were safe enough to rest and gather supplies. But the entire purpose of heading east was to find a safe place to live—a place to pretend it was home, just for a little while at least… Alicia never truly believed there would be a place to call home—it was more of Travis who longed to find a safe "home" but his hopes had begun to falter after too many rest stops—but she was tired of running and wanted to settle in a place, but she knew it would take time. She just didn't know how much time it would take. She scopes out the main entrance of the country clubhouse; where she, then, sees one walker. It had been there since the beginning of the end—well at least it had appeared to have been.

Daniel.

She read on his nametag; he must've worked here as a bartender or something. Clenching a knife in her hand, readying herself to defend, she lured Daniel the Dead to her. Of course, it snapped at her, growling and groaning as its feet shuffles on the floor; driven by hunger, Daniel opened his mouth to eat Alicia's flesh. Not a second later, she pierces her knife in the center of Daniel's forehead and no sounds came from it anymore, except with the thud of Daniel's body collapsing. She sat next to him, staring at the body of Daniel's, except this wasn't Daniel. It wasn't him; it was simply an 'it'.

Nothing more, nothing less.

This guy had an entire life ahead of him; he had people who cared about him. Looking down with melancholy, Alicia stares at the rotten corpse that remains. Tears began flooding her eyes, but they hadn't let them fall yet. She hadn't want to start the "what-if?" game this early into the evening, but there always were a few questions that slipped inside her mind.
She was making progress at feeling nothing when she saw the dead. But it would be something like seeing their nametags or seeing children as those things. It was truly undeserved; they hadn't even got a chance to live. Of course, as time goes on, you have to find a way to make it right. Time heals—so they say—but in all honesty, you merely learn to live with it making it okay. It's the only way to keep on living. She had let the tears fall by now. She had been hoping since the world ended that this was a nightmare and she would awake in Matt's warm arms or even Su-Su's loving arms wrapping tightly around Alicia… if she could just feel their touch one more time.

Shit. She thought about them. Tears began dripping from her cheeks as she sits on the floor, hugging her knees to her chest. She allowed herself to cry for the past ten minutes, but she wasn't going to allow herself to cry anymore—at least for now anyways. She "womaned" up and started searching other rooms in the downstairs area. Killing any walker she had stumbled upon—which wasn't many: less than a dozen or so—and then she heard a voice in the background,

"I think I know what happened to this place."