I found this on my computer from last March and I thought, "Hey, might as well post and see what happens.." Thus, here is a sort of Rugrats-meets-Zombie Apocalypse tale which revolves around the Rugrats gang in their teens dealing with the global catastrophe and the struggles they encounter along the way.

Rated T for Violence and dark themes

Do It

"You do it." Chuckie said on the verge of tears, tightly gripping a crimson stained baseball bat with the blood of his former neighbors. His hair was matted down with layers of sweat and grime from the past few weeks. Earlier that week the power went out for good, which he knew meant no water, and the greater sign civilization was truly falling apart.

Even though just a month before the greatest worry in the world for him was his Biology final coming up and trying to get on time to his shifts after school at a local supermarket; that seemed like a life time ago.

How did it happen? That was the sole thing that was nagging at him since this whole thing started. How did it go from one day, his family and friends were having BBQs in his backyard without a care in the world to having to smash in the skulls of their reanimated bodies?

He knew it was pointless to worry about such things in a time like this, when the real importance was survival and not scientific thinking. But he just couldn't stop asking him what the hell caused it.

Disease? Biological Warfare? Global Warming? He lightly laughed at the last one, he didn't even believe in global warming when the world wasn't in a state of chaos.

A low, exasperated groan brought him back to reality as he saw standing a mere ten feet in front of him was his late stepmother Kira. Her simple dress she always wore was tattered, her hair overgrown and in greasy waves over her face, and her glasses were broken and hanging off of her left ear. The other ear was shriveled up like a prune and was barely visible.

Kira was one of the first to turn on their block. Chuckie remembered watching her from the hallway, rapped in layers of blankets, with a roasting fever and random seizures ripping through her body as sweat ran down her face until her heart finally stopped beating.

He saw himself again lying down to Kimi that night with her crying into his shoulder, and himself smoothing her hair telling her everything was going to be okay, even though he knew society was crumbling as every second passed.

Chas, Chuckie and Kimi's father, heaved Kira onto his shoulder minutes after death and brought her to the basement. There he bound her in an old tool closet with duct tape and bungee cords.

He told his kids not to tell anyone about this, for the government said when someone dies you should immediately bludgeon their cranium in or their body would "resurrect" and violently attack you and eat you alive. Chuckie remembered that was one of the last announcements before the cable network went down and the Earth went black for good.

He couldn't believe it personally, that the dead would come back to life, but he remembered witnessing it firsthand. It was his last day at work before he realized the true magnitude of what was actually going on.

Sheets of rain were pouring down outside, cracks of thunder lighting up the parking lot of the local supermarket. The grocery store was running off of the emergency generator and the aisles were lit with dripping candles as literally hundreds of people fought one another for the last can of beans or tuna. In the entrance of the store there was a woman in her late sixties, crying out in pain as a mass horde of shoppers trampled over her, not caring that they were crunching upon her feeble bones.

Chuckie remembered watching from his cashier station in complete terror as she wiggled on the ground, her face going white, as her body finally collapsed on the ground like a ragdoll. He saw a deep indentation on her skull, probably from where a shopper slammed his or her foot upon; accident or purposely he didn't know.

He felt like he was going to throw up, as bile rose from his throat and overflowed in the waste bin under the cash register. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he saw as the line of people waiting stretched all the way down the aisle and to the back of the store.

My God. He thought to himself as he got back to focusing on scanning the overabundance of canned goods of the man in front of him. The man wore a black winter cap with a baggy beige jacket as he frantically moved back and forth on his heels. He seems to be worrying about something. Chuckie thought to himself. But duh, aren't we all in times like this?

Finally scanning the last can of soup of a hundred or so and a dozen 24 packs of bottled water, Chuckie said, "$349 and 71 cents."

Suddenly, the man furiously drew a snub-nosed revolver out of his jacket and placed the muzzle to his head, slowly clicking the round into the chamber. Whispering almost inaudibly, his breath smelling like strong liquor, "Are you sure about that?" As he pushed the carriage with one hand and the other grasping the revolver aiming towards Chuckie's cranium as he walked backwards towards the exit.

Frozen in place, not knowing what to do, he watched as the man exited the store. As he was about to place the revolver back into his jacket and hail his goods to his vehicle, a throatily growl echoed throughout the store as three hospital patients, two men and a young woman, jumped upon the man and mauled him viciously. As he screamed uncontrollable and tried to reach his revolver which was a mere couple inches from his fingertips, the woman's teeth ripped into his neck, causing blood and tissue to flow over the floor. The man's body soon went limp as the three patients started to eat away at his body.

Feeling ill again, vomit escaped Chuckie's mouth and spread over the plain tile floor. Soon the entire store was filled with screams as customers plowed out the doors, some in such extreme panic not bothering to notice twenty more hospital patients colliding into them at the entrance and ripping into their soft fleshly bodies with their teeth and overgrown nails.

Looking around frantically, not knowing what to do, Chuckie eyed an abandoned, filled to the brim carriage with non-perishable food and bottled water rapped plastic near the back of the store; a mere couple feet from the emergency exit.

Tossing his uniform apron to the ground, he sprinted towards the carriage. A whole seven seconds. That was all it took for him to cover the hundred feet as adrenaline coursed through him. Gripping the carriage with his clammy hands, he shoved the emergency door open and escaped into the stormy night as the rain soaked his lean body.

Hauling ass towards his car in the far back row near the delivery loading dock, he looked to his right to see a horde of infected tearing away at dozens of shoppers near the storefront entrance parking, who pleaded as they were torn apart mercilessly.

Swallowing bail sloshing in his mouth, he collided with his paint-chipped Corolla, hysterically tried to find his keys. Finally getting them from his back pocket, he went through the chain trying to find the correct key as a horrific CRASH occurred behind him.

He turned to see the dead smashing through the glass doors and shuffled towards him, their bloody arms raised pointing at him. Jumping in fright from the sound, the keys fell out of his grasp and struck the slippery asphalt. Cursing under his breath, he fell to his knees and desperately tried to spot the keys.

Thirty yards…the dead were gaining speed and were about to be upon him. Just as all hope was lost, a glint near his front tire caught his attention. My keys! He cried aloud and grabbed the slick metal and by luck slammed the correct key into his door and got the vehicle opened.

Twenty yards…they were so close to the car he could make out the features of each of the infected. Popping the trunk, he shoved as much of the groceries into the cramped space and the back seat as possible before there was barely any room left for him.

Eight yards…Shoving the empty carriage at the infected, causing one to stumble and fall to the ground, he threw himself in the car and attempted to start the motor. As the key was turned, it instantaneously was followed by a cough and sputter as the engine died. "Shit!" Chuckie screamed aloud as he helplessly turned the key to try to make the car start with no luck.

Two yards…they were an arm's length from Chuckie as finally with a burst of exhaust the engine came alive. Slamming his door as the dead smashed into the hood of the car, their jaws moving up-and-down as they tried to bit their way through the glass. Sweating like crazy, his foot collided with the peddle as he went in reverse; the dead fell to the ground off the hood in a puddle of their own blood and low hanging entrails.

Pulling out of the grocery store, and by some miracle making it home with his stash of supplies, he was welcomed home as a hero with hugs and cheers from Kimi and the rest of his childhood gang. Tommy and Dil were staying over for his parents were out of country on yet another month long Invention Convention in southern France. The two were certain their parents probably didn't make it for all airports were shut down the week before and the United States lost contact with the European Union the following night.

No matter how awful it was for either of them to say, they both deep down knew their parents were probably dead or have already turned like Kira who was locked up in the basement.

The Deville twins, Phil and Lil, were also staying at the Finister's until their parents returned from wherever the National Guard took them. While at work a matter of days before paramedics and EMTs were taking everyone's blood and checking for a certain type of skin rash on the forearm. Both Howard and Betty were positive on having the skin condition, and they were instantly taken away with more than three-fourths of their coworkers to an unknown location.

The two of them were only aloud a thirty second phone call home to their children, "Hey pumpkins, we're safe and we just want you to know we love you two with all our hearts and we want you to take care of yourselves for a little while. Okay? We love you kiddos, we'll talk later…"

These were the last words they heard of their parents.

What did you think? Sorry if any of it upset anyone, and tell if you think i should continue. Reviews appreciated! -Crocy98