PART ONE

I woke up with a start. Immediately after I sat up from my sleep, I began to feel dizzy. Blinking my eyes and taking deep, slow breaths, I came to realize that I was sitting on a bench in the front lobby of the New Canaan Town Hall. The air was musty and aside from my breathing and the faint noise of birds chirping and wind blowing outside the building, all was silent inside. I stood up to find that I wasn't wearing any shoes and my feet were covered in dirt and what looked like dried blood. Why can't I remember what I'm doing here? Where are my shoes? Where is my shirt, for that matter? Why do I look like I survived the apocalypse?

Discombobulated and self-conscious, how any girl would feel without a shirt on, I started to move instinctively towards the back exit of the building. Upon opening the door to the meeting hall, I was blinded by the unexpected brightness of the room. Sheilding my eyes, I saw that outside it was a cloudless day, and probably warm. Looking around the room, I saw a discarded grey button-down shirt and put it on, not caring it was about ten sizes too large. I continued through the hall and to the exit, where, once outside, I was smacked in the face by the intense New England humidity that sticks to the skin like a burr.

Wait a second, I thought, staring at the empty parking lot in front of me. Why is everything so quiet? Where are all the people? Why am I still here?

I turned around and walked back inside, and out the entrance door. As I ran down the steps I tripped and stumbled the rest of my way to the bottom of the staircase.

Pumped on adrenaline, I jumped the up from the ground and bolted towards Main Street into the empty middle of the road. I looked all around me but there was nobody in sight; abandoned cars, empty stores, empty sidewalks... I am in Hell. "Is there anybody here?!" I shouted, only to recieve the faint echo of my voice against the buildings as a reply.

I started walking down the road towards Elm Street, catching my breath and trying to figure out what was going on. Every few yards I would pause to shout "Hello!?" but after several yards it hurt to speak and I gave up. I kept walking past Elm Street, past the Mobil parking lot, and across the street and towards the library.

I went up the stairs to the back door and stepped inside. "Hello?" I took a breath. "Is anybody in here?"

There was no answer and I walked back outside. I need a cigarette. I walked up to the Gulf station, saw it was empty, went behind the counter and grabbed a pack of Marlboro Lights. On my way out I took a Lemon Snapple from the refrigerator and put a lighter in my pocket. Sorry, Sal. I thought regretfully to myself.

Once outside, I sat on the curb and began to chug down the snapple, surprising myself at the volume of liquid I was sucking down. I emptied the bottle and stood it on the curb next to me. I tried to make sense of my situation as I lit a cigarette. Maybe this is just a whacked-out acid trip. Maybe I'm really just watching this really bad horror movie at my house and I'm so trashed that I think I'm experiencing it. That can happen, right?

What the fuck. Who am I kidding? I'd at least feel like I was sitting on a couch or something. I'm definately smoking a cigarette in the middle of a fucking empty town that I just took from the gas station... man, what the fuck am I supposed to do? What the fuck is going on!? Jesus-fucking-Christ, I don't believe this shit!!

Annoyed that I still couldn't remember anything about what happened before I woke up, I picked up my cigarettes, stood up, and started walking up the road towards the church, figuring there has to be someone there. I lit up another cigarette as I reached the parking lot, and because I no longer gave a shit, I didn't bother putting it out to walk inside.

As I opened the door, a smell unlike anything I could describe completely overtook me. I thought I was going to vomit and I debated bolting. Instead, I took a drag and held my breath, then I continued forward. Further inside the building, I was astounded at what I saw. Lying on the benches in front of me were rows and rows and rows of bodies and bodies and bodies. What the fuck?

I dared to investigate. I took another deep breath of air and nearly vomited again at the smell, but I couldn't turn back now. Lifeless women, children, men; husbands, wives, girlfriends, boyfriends, family, friends - all of them dead. And they were definately dead. But how did they die? What the fuck was it that killed all these people? How did they die and I didn't? What the fuck is going on here!? Why is this happening to me?! What did I do to deserve this shit?!

Jesus Christ, "our savior", hung from the ceiling, still nailed to the cross. I nodded at him indifferently and walked down the aisle, stepping over corpses as I headed to the pulpit. I kept my cigarette close to my face so I could inhale smoke rather than the musty, confined stench of a mass amount of corpses.

"This shit is all sorts of fucked up," I muttered out loud when I reached the pulpit. Even though I didn't raise my voice much at all, I was surprised at how loud it sounded. I acknowledged the nice way my words glided throughout the building, for a brief moment materially pleased with the acoustics. Then I realized where I was and the creeping grin on my face dissapeared. Looking out at the benches surrounding me, all full of people who were dead, I felt empty. All these people came here, inside this church, to find safety... all they got was death. And it looks like death hurt like a bitch.

I didn't know what to do, so I just smoked my cigarette and stared. How ironic, I thought, that I, a firm non-believer, am the one person in this building of the devout who is alive. I started to direct my thoughts to the dead. I am sorry that your prayers did not save you. I am sorry that there was no god to answer your pleas for an answer. I'm sorry you didn't find out until it was too late.

"Peace." I said outloud, this time in a fairly raised voice, and stepped away from the pulpit, aiming to head back outside and see if I could find a live person.

Then I heard something behind me. I turned around to see an alter boy, pale, boney, and otherwise dead-looking if not for his movement, crawling towards me, grunting. I stepped back, startled. Alter Boy kept moving closer, more awkward than usual for somebody on all fours, his arms bent, his body twisted, and his balance uneven. Then he jumped up and lunged himself towards me. I screamed and backed up. His eyes were bloodshot and his face was mangled somehow - it looked as if his face was made of of playdough rather than skin and bones and blood. He took another leap at me, his hands reaching out to grab me. "The fuck are you doing?!" I shouted, trying to push him away, finally resorting to shoving the burning end of my cigarette into his eye. Alter boy faltered backwards, screaming, while I, trying not to throw up, ran towards the exit faster than I have ever ran before, leaping over outsprawled corpses with the grace of a champion trackee.

As I got closer to the doorway I came in, though, I heard more grunting and I made the mistake of looking behind me. People that I assumed dead began to rise from the benches and move towards me. No longer feeling sorry for the inhabitants of the church, I bolted through the entrance hall and out the door and didn't stop running until I got to the train station. My lungs felt like they were going to collapse on me and my heart was pounding like crazy. I thanked goodness for all the callus on my feet that made being barefoot relatively bearable. But I had absolutely no drive left to run any further, though I knew I'd soon have to.

Shit. I thought, leaning on a mailbox and pant, pant, panting. I looked around the parking lot and then out towards the road coming from the church. I saw the decomposing maniacs hustling towards me, with greater speed than I expected or wished them to have. Shit.

I knew that there was no way I could outrun those Things any further. I ran anyway, but I heard them gaining on me anyway. When I reached Starbucks, I knew I was done for. Then, I heard gunshots. No, not gunshots - that's fire! Who the fuck has a flamethrower in New Canaan?

"Get down!" shouts a male's voice, before shooting off another rocket.

Once again confused, but not in the mood to have come this far only to die from rocket-fire, I jumped underneath a table. I watched as a guy and a girl, both in their twenties, chucked grenades and other things at the Things.

"Come on!" the guy shouted at me, I guess taking the oppertunity to bolt.

I sat there underneath the table. This guy's gotta be fuckin' kidding me.

"Come on!" the girl shouted as well. The two of them began to run up the hill and I knew they ultimately didn't give a shit if I came with them or not.

Jesus-fucking-Christ. I thought, then started to run after them.