See no Zombie, Hear no zombie, Speak no zombie

by Neko-Chi-1

The recent Ebola virus has mutated. Based off of a report of two women coming back from the dead, this is a year and a half later and the virus is getting worse. Canada and America fight for their survival and try to save those they can. (Violence, language, cigarette use) This is purely fictional. The end will explain it all. (When I finally write it)

2. Chapter 2

Matthew was snapped out of his thoughts when he heard a shift behind him. He peeked back and saw Francis sitting up. He walked over "Papa... You should be resting, you're far too injured." Francis stood up with a painful groan. "Papa?" Matthew approached him and looked to him worried before the sight made him tense up. Francis' eyes were glazed over with a milky substance with a yellow tint to it.

France looked to Matthew and tilted his head before quickly stepping closer and reaching out to his neck, Matthew fell back and dropped his gun, the noise not waking the other two from their deep and needed sleeps.

Matthew scrabmled to get out from under Francis, the breath smelling of decay caused him to nearly gag and his eyes to water. The nails dug into Matthews flesh, down the shoulder and across his chest. He winced and kicked him off. Matthew quickly shuffled back and grabbed the gun as Francis stood and launched himself at the Canadian.

A bang echoed through the building before there was a loud thud of the body falling to the ground.

Alfred and Arthur quickly woke up and looked over, only to see Francis face first on the ground, his blood tinted with black, seeping out of his body and spreading across the floor. And not too far from him sat the Canadian, hugging his knees and hiding his face, his body shaking from quiet sobs.

"Matthew? Wh.. What happened?" Alfred quickly got up and rushed to his brother. Arthur picked up the corpses wrist and checked the pulse, there was nothing.

"He.. He was i-infected.. He attacked me... I'm sorry!" He cried out and pulled his knees even closer, his chest tight and hurting from the knowledge of killing his own father.

Alfred held him close and rubbed his back, trying to soothe him. "It's okay.. There's nothing we could have done.. Are you okay though?" Matthew slowly released his legs to reveal the cuts.

He heard his brother swear under his breath before pulling his legs closer and hiding his face. "I'm sorry.."

"It's okay, it's not your fault." Alfred looked to Arthur who had rolled France onto his back and was checkingh is eyes. Arthur looked up to Alfred and nodded, confirming that France was infected. Alfred turned back to Matthew. "Okay, let me see those cuts."

Matthew let go of his legs and laid back as Alfred tended to his wounds.