Holy balls was this chapter fucking aggravating to write. Not because it was difficult to continue the storyline, but because I kept forgetting to save my damn progress. Now, if you're wondering, I have multiple tabs open on my window, and pressing backspace is a terrible habit of mine. (Not just on my keyboard, but there's a special back button on my mouse as well) So... whenever I come back to my draft window and accidentally press backspace, I completely forget the handful of paragraphs I wrote and pull an eighth of my hair out from all that work I just lost in an instant. Remember kids, SAVE. YOUR. PROGRESS. You do not realize how important it is until you fall under bad luck and pull that oopsy. I usually save every other one and a half paragraphs btw.

Chapter 2 "Warm Bodies..?"

Zoey...

What's going on? Can I think after I'm dead..? I suppose...

Or maybe, I should try opening my eyes. That was a bad choice, for I open them to see a damned infected staring widely at me, its face centimeters away from my own. I grow pale, but quickly calm myself. I soon notice I have immense difficulty moving my limbs, and what's more, butter face and I weren't alone. His friends surround us, clustering together and putting me in the middle of it all. What am I, a Zoey sandwich?

It seems I miraculously survived the fall from Mercy Hospital's rooftop, and landed in this enormous pile of zombie guts. It was difficult not to throw up from the rancid stench. Not to mention I don't want any of this crap in my mouth. I pull through, and wriggle out from my bloody grave. I claw through ligaments, body parts and spoiled intestines. From the depths of a dim burrow to the top of hundreds of dead bodies, I free myself from this zombie prison. I stand wearily at the top of mount apocalypse, my hand holding my injured arm, faintly inhaling a deep breath of vitality, my second chance of sorts.

I look around the vast empty streets, splattered in war paint of the undead, and vehicles set on fire that help light up the night. The lone sound of the wind howls through the air as I make my way down the pile of corpses. I carefully descend.

I gasp, and trip down the rest of the way. A damn zombie had grabbed my ankle and shook my leg. I tumble down to the concrete of the cracked roadway, immediately finding my balance and standing back up. Thankfully, my dual pistols were latched onto their respective holsters, and I take them out and raise them in front of me. I aim at the mountain of corpses, slowly walking back without taking my eyes off of it. Sweat trickles down my forehead, my arms begin to shake, and my breathing grows rapid. If one zombie was still moving... there's bound to be plenty others who're still active, too.

And how coincidental, as I quietly thought it to myself, dozens of the infected burst from their undead pile. One by one, their hands erupt from all the gore. It was like a scene that came straight out of a zombie movie.

"Holy shit..." I murmur.

I plan not to stay and see how many more would rise up, instead I made a run for it. I holster my guns and sprint for my life. Without looking back, I begin to hear them screeching and growling. The worst part is how it was getting closer, far quicker than I would like. I glance over my shoulder and see one reaching its hand out to me. It swipes at the air and barely misses my back. Their stamina is impressive, but being mindless is where it takes its toll.

I make an abrupt turn, ducking over the runner's lunge and tripping it over my curled body in the process. I shoot back up and make my way to the narrow alley. I elude several other attacks as I slither past the virals. Successfully reaching the alley, my eyes rapidly dart around and spot a fire-escape stairwell alongside an apartment building. Its ladder dangles gently by the end of the flight of steps, but it was too high for me to grab a hold of. Not even jumping would help make my reach achievable. Added with my pained arm, it's already something of a challenge.

I look ahead at the other side of the alleyway and see a horde blocking my path. They swiftly near me, widening their mouths with ravenous hunger. My feet skid against the ground, and stop under the ladder. I snap my neck around and see that I'm blocked off by the other horde pursuing me. I was in a pinch, and I had no choice but to try for the ladder above.

My anxiety grows with every failed attempt. My single good arm outstretched over my head and unable to take a hold of the ladder. My eyes dart left to right, watching the infected hunching down and preparing to pounce on me. Without thinking, I run toward the wall, vault with all the momentum my body could summon, and leaped off the cemented bricks. My hand swings for the ladder, and fortunately, I catch the bar. However, I caught it with my bad arm, and I let out an agonizing wail.

I endure the overwhelming pain. Those monsters were all swarming under me at this point, so letting go is not an option I had in mind. I grab hold of the ladder with my other hand and steadily lift my body. I grunt in pain and angst. Damn my sore shoulder.

As I carefully squirm through one of the hoops of the ladder, my body is pulled out by a sudden weight from my feet. My chin hits the metal bar of the ladder, making me bite my bottom lip. My pupils dilate, and my legs had no control of themselves. They were immobile. I stiffly look down and see a dumb zombie suspended on my legs. I couldn't kick as much as I would want, for he held both my ankles tightly.

I didn't want things to end like this. With one last effort, I lift as much of my body through the loop again and look down at the fucker. I pull out my handgun and carefully aim at his head.

"Get... the hell... OFF ME!" I screamed.

With a stentorian bang, and a perfect shot between its eyes, the zombie falls to the ground and lands on top of several others.

I throw my handgun onto the platform of the stairwell, followed by dragging my body over the grating. I safely rest on the metal, catching my breath and twisting my body and looking up to the starry sky.

"Fuckin' A, man." I said to myself.

The breeze on my back blows through the holes of the platform, cooling me after that intense workout. I sit up and scoot over to the building. A sigh of fatigue escapes from my lips as I lean against the bricks.

Now what..?

After narrowly escaping all those infected, what am I supposed to do now? The guys are probably long gone and safety bound. And me? I'm left here for dead.

I swallow the harsh reality of the situation, putting my hand over my grieving heart. I'm all alone, and I'm not sure where to go next. Well, perhaps the next place to go is inside. The temperature is dropping and I was getting cold.

I look down at the aggressive horde and spit the blood from my lips at them. There was no satisfaction watching it hit their faces. After all, my strength deteriorates with every action I make. I was so damn tired.

Even lifting the window was a big chore. I quietly grunt as I give my all to lift the window sill. The sill creaks and gives way. I slip my arm through the small crack I had made, and used my back the rest of the process. It slides up and I enter the building left foot first. I immediately close the window behind me to prevent the cold draft from entering. I turn back to the dark vacant hallway, and am greeted with silence.

I held my body close, looking left and right. On my left were three rooms labeled down from 201-203. There was also red display case stuck vertically off the wall between rooms 202 and 203. On the right were two more rooms labeled 204 and 205. I look at both sides, repeatedly turning my head, unsure which room to frequent. Suddenly, a soft whimper can be heard. My back straightens itself and I listen for the source of the noise. It comes from the room closest to me on my right, room 204.

I approach the room door, and can hear the sound of the woman's whimper more clearly. I slide my handguns out and turn the flashlight off. With my weapons ready, I turn the doorknob with caution and poke one of my guns through the crack.

"Hello..?" I whisper.

I open the door wider, an am met with a pair of hands that grabbed my shoulders. She pushes me against the wall, and my guns slip out my hands from the impact. The zombie woman whimpers at me distortedly, staring at me with lifelessness in her eyes.

Her teeth clack with every chomp as she lunges for my face. I hold her neck while she aims for mine. I lift my knee to her gut, successfully making her let go of me. I kick her away from me and watch her stumble away. She hits the window and breaks the glass, falling onto the shards that stuck out from the window sill.

I take several steps of my own away from her, and look to my right. In the red display case was a fire axe. I scan the floor for my weapons, and see that they were near the zombie woman's feet. She continuously kicks and flails while still stuck on the teeth of the window sill.

I wear a frown and clasp my hands together. I elbow the glass of the display case with my good arm and carefully take out the fire axe. By the time I got hold of the axe, the zombie woman pulls herself out the shards. Her head hangs over one side of her body, and her breath rasps low and sadly. We trade menacing gazes as we inch closer to each other. She breaks into a sprint, and I hold out the top of the fire axe. I ram it into her face and move to the side. She falls to the ground and lands on her back. I swiftly step over her body and repeatedly bunt the top of the fire axe against her face, grunting violently with every hit. I raise the fire axe one last time, turning it to its spiky pointed end and force it down with all my might. It penetrates her skull, killing her for good.

I place the bottom of my foot on the axe blade and stomp my weight onto it. I listen, as the sharp point of the axe goes through the floor.

Double tap, bitch.

With a sigh of relief, I trot over to my handguns before any more pop out from the other rooms. I securely slip them back into their holsters.

Now that I know I had taken care of the source of the problem, I creep into room 204. I didn't expect much when coming into a person's apartment, but as I enter, I was shocked to see what was laying on the bed. I approach the bedside, and see a girl, no older than her mid-teens, entirely consumed from her head to her lower region. Her insides spilling out and dripping onto the floor. My hands cover my mouth in disbelief. I also notice a pink journal beside her pillow. Slowly, I reach for it. With the journal in hand, I quickly jump away from the girl in case she decides to come back to life. Though, I doubt she'll be, given the damage that's been done to her.

I walk over to the apartment room door and close it. With the bed occupied, I chose to crash on the couch and rest for a bit.

"Finally." I said with enunciation.

I breathe a very long sigh as I slide my body down and lay on the couch. I pick up the girl's journal back up and lift it to my face. The cover reads Riley's Diary! in the front, and the back simply had the same design of pink and red hearts along with the bar code.

"Riley's Diary..." I murmur.

I sit upright, and open the journal. I begin to read its contents...