Part 1: S~
What lead to this. Me. A lonely 17 year old girl, Standing in the ashes of New York. A outbreak of a new virus S5N2 wiped out America in a matter of days. Anyway. I'm standing here, letting the grey colored ash settle on my black worn leather boots. Small parts of building, ash, smoke. whatever it was; collected in my blonde hair that was messily tied back.
A rustling noise in a nearby building caught my ear. It wasn't the faint sound of the rustling that sent my into a small panic, It was the thought that it could be an infected. As I turned the corner I seen, my thought turned into reality. It was an olive colored man, snacking on a brunette woman's liver. I leaned against the cracked pillar that used to hold a ceiling and cheery people would sit under it and smoke, but now, the ceiling is gone and the support pillars are worn thin. My elbow pads scrapped the cement, which alerted the mutated freak. Instead of using my bow, well wasting my arrows. I took off in full sprint, jumping over debris. I don't know why I was running, since the infected are particularly slow. My black bullet proof vest began to get heavy, I was out of breath and every little thing was taking a toll on me. I hunched over, grabbed my stomach and took in a deep breath. Killing the infected with my knife was out of the question. The blood of an infected is highly contagious, one drop bodily fluid in any open wound or mouth, eye etc, will kill you, turn you.
I took off again but my grey tank-top underneath the vest was caught on a metal rod which slowed me down a lot. I pulled it off and headed to the building that was actually completely intact. A large hotel would be my only shelter from these crazed assholes. I burst through the large metal doors and slam them closed behind me and stack anything I can find in front of them. Then I remind myself so I don't go crazy. My Name is Kaylie, I'm from England, I'm 17.
The headache that was kicking my skull finally subsided and i was soon at ease but the thought of infected somewhere in the hotel made my head furiously pound again. I walked to the front desk and sat in the blue rolling chair. Dust filled the dry air and my lungs heaved in disgust, what a horrible intake of oxygen.
Three months ago, London was evacuated to Russia and America. When our flight landed in New York, hell broke loose. One person bit another, that person bit another person, and endless chain of killing and turning into a mindless zombie type thing. As the virus broke through the containment zones, people were forced to flee to other states which made the infection spread across the U.S.
I was in mid sleep when screams awoke me. Infected at the door, a group maybe 10 of them, beating their fists into the wooden door that surely wouldn't hold them back for long. I took off up to the stairs that once had a red carpet the flowed down to the floor, now it's damp, lifeless, colorless and tore to no recognition. As i reached the top step, the unthinkable happened. My foot fell through the step, cutting my leg terribly. The infected were in, my leg was stuck. This was definitely the end for me.
With a loud scream and a tug, my leg was free and I hobbled up another flight of stairs, the infected slowly following behind. A man from out of nowhere stopped me in my tracks. "I...I'm not infected" I said. barely getting the words out. He was dressed in a swat uniform and had a nightstick in his left hand, ready to bash my head to a pulp.
He took my hand an drug me into his room and I instantly fell onto the couch. He looked out the peep-hole in the door, the infected passed by and headed for the next floor. I looked around, he had electric, running water and I Am Legend was playing on his T.V.
"I sound proofed the room" he said, taking off his mask. "And the electric?" "Generator" he replied. He looked to be in his forties. "Names Bill" He held out his hand and gave me a reassuring smile. "Kaylie" I slowly pulled up my shredded pants leg, letting out whimpers to ease the pain. "Looks Bad" He said as I reached for medical supplies in my knapsack. I took out a roll of gauze and wrapped it tight around the wound. "Ah Fuck!" I couldn't hold the words back. The pain was unbearable.
"Need Help?" I looked at him with a look that could kill a cat. He backed away. "Okay. How bout a drink?" He asked. " I have plenty of water in my bag" I replied. I stood from the couch "Look. I didn't need your help back there. I work better alone anyway" I started to walk out but he stood in front of me.
"Bullshit. You did need my help, don't play the badass here, we both know you're not". I sighed and sat back down on the couch, he was right. I tried acting like a badass, but that's just me I guess.
"Look. I'm only asking you stay one night with me. Just so your wound can heal a little" He said. I rolled my eyes. "Fine, one night and I'm gone. Early in the morning"
He didn't object, he simply shook his head in agreement and walked into the kitchen to pour himself a glass of scotch. "Drinking at a time like this?"
"What better time?" He asked. A smile crossed my face, It's been a while since that happened.
