Note: this story is being co-written, and this is the first chapter by another author. Specifically, this chapter is written by and from the POV of Bookreader777. She's a really good writer, and if anyone is looking for more zombie-type stories, they should check her out! Hope you all enjoy, and note that there will be more chapters by other writers in the future. Thanks!
I was covered in blood. Rotten, decaying bodies and chopped bits of flesh and limbs surrounded in a circle around me. The sword clutched in my hand was dripping the red liquid to the already soaked grass. The two twin pistols at my waist remained untouched, for I had not needed them for the massacre that had happened only about thirty minutes earlier. Still, the pounding of my heart felt like loud thumps that I was scared the walkers could hear from a mile away. The adrenaline still rushed through my body, but slowly it was beginning to wear off, and the muscles in my arms began to ache faintly from the nonstop hacking and slashing.
It was a miracle I was still alive. A camp that had let me stay for a night had been overrun with walkers, and I had to leave them, or I would have joined them in death. The guilt weighed heavily on me, but I needed to keep moving before more showed up. Finally getting back into action, I bent down and swiped the blood off the sides of my sword using the clothes of a downed walker before pushing it into the sheath strapped to my back.
My life hadn't always been like this. In fact, I used to be a journalist in the nearby city only a few days ago. It's crazy to imagine that life had been so simple, and showered with luxuries everyone took for granted. When all hell broke loose, it had started out like any other day…
"Ebony Scott! What a pleasure it is to see you this fine morning."
I looked up from my computer, my eyes locking on a man with dark brown hair and chocolate colored eyes. He leaned against the doorway of my office, holding a mug of coffee in one hand. A small smile came over me and I lean back in my chair, gazing at him and put my hands behind my head in a relaxed position.
"Well, where else would I be, Stewart? Today is a weekday, and there is an article I really must get back to," I started in a smooth voice before smiling, "But thank you for that wonderful morning greeting. It isn't everyday someone is so enthusiastic at eight-fifteen in the morning."
Stewart Ryan grinned before walking over, taking a sip from his black mug. "Well, today is very interesting, actually. I don't interrupt your work just every day, Ms. Scott. An interesting issue in the news came up no too long ago. I would suggest looking it up. It might create a great article idea," He pointed out and I raised my eyebrows. As much as I hated to admit it, I needed a brilliant article topic. Lately, they have been slower and not as interesting or entertaining. The minute he said the news was broadcasting an interesting issue, I was already typing in the news site.
Pressing enter, the page loads for a moment before transferring to the website. Stewart looked over my shoulder, both of us shocked by what the headlines said. They were just so unreal. Intrigued and horrified at the same time, I eagerly read the written reports, getting disturbed by the second. What they were saying was that…zombies were becoming a reality. If this was true, then I had a lot of work to do. I needed to inform the public, and what better way than to write an article about it?
"Stewart, I'm going to write about this. The moment I'm done, I will leave it in your hands. It is up to you to get this published as fast as possible. I'm leaving the city the moment I finish." I said firmly, and he looked at me as though I was insane.
"Ebony, don't you think you are overreacting a little bit? I'm sure there is some logical explanation for all of this." He said and I frown, glancing over at him.
"I'm not making up my mind. I'm sorry to kick you out, but I need you to go." I said to him and he sighed, running a hand through his hair before striding out.
Immediately, I set to work. My fingers flew over the keys of my keyboard, the article soon taking shape. The words poured from me and through my fingers as I typed up a storm. It didn't really take all that long to finish it, though putting it through proofreading extended the time. Soon, my masterpiece was created, and I saved it on a USB drive before getting up and walking out of my office. I head down to Stewart's and simply walk in, putting the small device on his desk.
"Make sure this is published." I say to him seriously, not waiting for an answer as I strode out.
The other workers looked at me oddly, but I didn't care. All I knew was that I needed to leave this city, and fast. Surely other people were crowding to get away as well, so I figured moving through the nearby forest would be much more efficient than driving. However, I needed to get to my apartment and pack supplies. Walking out of the building, I head to my black Toyota Corolla and drove to my domain, lucky I didn't receive a speeding ticket on the way.
Parking outside, I quickly get out and ran up to my building, unlocking the door. Right away, I started packing necessities, like food, water and a few extra clothes. Next, I change my attire, since work clothes would not be a very intelligent choice to wear. I pull my dark brown hair out of the ponytail I had it contained in. The slightly wavy hair fell around my shoulders, but I wasted no time changing into jeans, tennis shoes and a simple black t-shirt. I grabbed a light-weight but still warm jacket as well, putting it into the pack with the provisions. The last things I packed up were matches, a flashlight, batteries, rope, medical supplies and a small blanket.
Swinging the backpack onto my shoulders, I'm about to leave when I glance towards my bedroom one more time. Quickly, I returned and pulled a rather big gun case out from under my bed. Inside were two black twin pistols. I reach back under the bed, and pull out holsters for the guns and plenty of ammo for them as well. My father had given them to me, and taught me how to shoot them as well. I wasn't too bad either. Attaching the holsters to my waist, I push the guns in them and packed the ammo into my backpack, then headed out.
My next stop was my dad's house. Being an archaeologist, he has come across many artifacts. Some of which are old swords. He was a fan of the medieval time period in history, and refurbished some of the swords he found. Coming outside of it, I park the car in the driveway and walk out. My dad was gone on a vacation out of country, and I could only hope he would stay there and be safe. He didn't have a cell phone, so contacting him was nearly impossible.
Using the key under the welcome mat, I walk into the house and to his study. A sword caught my eye as I walked in. It was thin, a rapier perhaps, and would be lightweight. It hung between two shields. With a deep breath, I walked over and took it from the wall, balancing the hilt in my left hand expertly. Being a fencer gave me a pretty decent knowledge of how to handle swords, and the one I held was well balanced. It was meant to be fast at striking, which was just what I needed. I ran my pinky lightly over the edge of the blade and winced lightly as it shallowly cut me. Good, it was sharp then. Taking the sheath for it, I strapped it to my back, having it poke over my left shoulder at an angle.
It was then that I left, but not before I left a quick note for my father explaining the absence of his sword and the situation the world was in. I took off into the forest, completely unaware of the horrors that would stand before me in the near future. Little did I know that the camp I had stayed in would eventually become a death bed not only for that group, but also the lover of a young man who also had the idea to leave town, but with his friends…
Day had turned to night, and I had already settled up in a high tree. It was safe from walkers, since they couldn't climb. Exhaustion had taken over my body, and I didn't have much water left, so my mouth was dry. I was still covered in blood; since there was no way in hell I was going to use my precious water supply to clean myself. That wasn't worth it. So I let myself fall asleep, hoping I would be safe for a few hours to regain my energy.
The sharp sound of gunshots jolted me awake and I rested my hands on my pistols, scanning the area. No one was around me. More gunfire echoed among the trees and I cuss, quickly getting down from my safe tree. "Who is firing their guns?! They're going to get themselves killed." I muttered under my breath angrily, starting to jog away from the spot. Sure, the walkers would be more attracted to the location point where the noise was coming from, but that didn't mean they wouldn't pass by. For all I knew, I could be extremely close to whoever was shooting the guns, and I was determined to get the hell out of where I was.
The entire day was spent walking and running off into some random location. I didn't have a specific route or destination. I just needed to get away from the city and maybe find a small town at some point. Thankfully, walkers didn't make an appearance, and once again, I climbed a tree and slept. My strength was beginning to deteriorate. The food had become scarce, and the water was basically gone. It was easy to fall asleep now, since it took me away from my parched mouth and aching, near empty stomach.
As I awoke the next day, a sharp pang of hunger hit my stomach, and I winced. I pull the bag from my back and took out the last granola bar. I unwrapped the bar and ate it slowly, despite the fact that I wanted to eat it much more ravenously. Once finished, I placed the wrapper inside my bag and took out my water bottle and took the smallest of swigs. It was just enough to wet my sandpaper like mouth, though not nearly enough to quench my thirst.
After, I hopped down from the tree, stumbling weakly as I hit the ground with my feet, and rested my hand on the tree trunk to steady myself. Once I was oriented, I took off walking once again. By now, the blood that still covered me was a brown color. However, I hardly cared at the moment. All I could think about was water and food. I barely had enough energy to run as it was. So, I walked through the forest all day. The sun started to sink in the horizon, and I still hadn't found a water source or any food. Just as the sun was about halfway down, the sound of growling and moans caught my attention. Wearily, I look over my shoulder and pale. A group of walkers was right behind me. How did I not hear them until now?
Unsheathing my sword, I decapitate the closest one, and kill about three others before the adrenaline kicked in. Already, blood had sprayed onto me once again from the injuries I had inflicted upon the now dead walker. The adrenaline allowed my body to feel as though it had the energy to run, so I dashed and weaved between the trees, running from the chasing walkers.
Suddenly, I burst out of the forest and came to a clear surrounding with a farmhouse in the distance…and the lights were on. Hope surged through me, but already the adrenaline had begun to wear off, and I was hit with fatigue. Once again, the moaning could be heard behind me, and I push forward, soon turning around and waited. I couldn't bring all these walkers here to the people at this farmhouse. I was determined to keep them safe, even though I was physically weakened as of now.
The first of the group made their appearance, and I slashed my sword in fine, accurate arcs, spraying blood and falling the undead one by one. It wasn't long before my sword arm began shaking, however, and my cuts became sloppy, though they still did the job. As more began to swarm, I backed up, quickening my killing. Surely an end to this group was coming, right?
The fight lasted about fifteen more minutes, and the corpses were still coming strong. At this point, I felt almost dizzy. With the rate of how I was at the moment, I was going to die and be eaten soon. A walker suddenly lunged at me and I yelped, stumbling back, which caused me to fall. The walkers surged towards me and my shaking hands went to a pistol at my waist, but I couldn't get a good grip on it. I closed my eyes quickly, and waited for death.
Abruptly, a squelching sound and multiple thuds rang out, and the sharp pain of teeth tearing me apart didn't come. Slowly, I opened my eyes, seeing a group of four people fighting the squadron of walkers that almost had me for dinner. They were armed with baseball bats, knives and guns, though they were falling the undead with the swinging weapons, since a gunshot would attract even more.
I gripped my sword once again and just barely managed to get to my feet. However, the moment I stood and steadied myself, the small but fierce group struck down the last abomination.
"You alright?" A girl asked as she walked towards me, hoisting her metal baseball bat against her shoulder as if she was a star softball player.
"Y-Yeah…just exhausted. Thank you for saving me." I breathed out, looking at the rest of the group to show I was grateful to all of them.
"No problem. We're all living, right? I'm Carrie." She said with a smile, holding her hand out.
"Ebony." I respond, taking her hand and shaking it.
"Great! Now that we are all acquainted, how about we get down to that farm and see if we can stay there?" Carrie spoke up.
"Sounds good." I nodded in return.
As the group and I made our way to the farmhouse, my feet were dragging and sheathing my sword wasn't going to happen anytime soon. My hands were shaking much too badly. I realized I was still blood covered, and was thankful for a moment that group of walkers had attacked. They may have attacked her since she looked like one of them if she hadn't been about to be killed.
The group finally made it to the front door, and I stepped up and knocked on the door three times, then began to sway a bit on my feet. A guy in the group stepped forward and rested his hands on my shoulders to steady me as we waited for whoever was in this farmhouse to answer the door…and hopefully take us in.