Prologue

Everyone remembered the beginning of the Zombie Apocalypse. Some regarded it as the worst day of their lives, others saw it as the day their lives became a waking nightmare, an unfortunate amount knew it as the last day of their lives. These views were common and widespread. They were nearly universal.

But there was still a precious few that thought differently. A few saw it as an opportunity. An opportunity to get away from their dead end lives, and become part of something bigger. They were ready to meet the challenge of their new lives and were determined to conquer it.

You know what they say, "When the going gets tough, the tough get going."

Mike Wheeler

Who knew that Mike was going to start his Thursday by getting buried in a mound of rubble?

He walked up to the partially crushed 7-11 in hopes of finding something edible. The place didn't look remotely stable, but it was the first building Mike had seen in days. His supplies were dwindling and the fifteen year old boy was almost out of food. Even if the building was zombie infested or on the verge of collapse, he had no choice but to try.

He walked carefully to the entrance, gun ready in case there was a zombie. He opened the door like any wrong move would blow up the building, crushing him beneath a ton of rubble. Because it would.

To his surprise, the door opened pretty easily. It was almost like someone had been here before. He took a quick look around the store, sighed with relief, and coughed as he inhaled some dust. The good news was that there hadn't been anyone there for a long time, the bad news was that inhaling this dust might prove bad for his lungs. The last thing Mike needed when he was on the run was a head cold.

As he cautiously ventured further into the store, he looked around for some intact food. Staying as far from the rubble as possible, he browsed the shelves. After a few minutes of no luck, he eventually hit the jackpot.

He stumbled across a shelf with a Family Size bag of Doritos that wasn't completely destroyed, and a box of granola bars. Grinning, he shoved the haul into his bag.

Usually he would've counted himself lucky to find half that much food. Raiding half blown up 7-11s didn't often amount to much success.

But this time, he got cocky. He figured he could find more food if he wandered closer to the rubble. His mistake.

The closer he got to the collapsed side of the building, the more uneasy he got. Not only was most of the food irreparably destroyed, but the dust was getting worse.

Mike began to turn back, the dust too thick to make any further progress. But, as he began to turn around, he sneezed.

It was a loud sneeze. His nostrils protesting against breathing in the toxic air. It was so forceful, that he stumbled back several feet, right into a shelf.

The shelf, being as old and nearly destroyed as it was, couldn't stand the impact.

The whole building shook, and Mike looked up in time to see the ceiling start to fall.

"Oh, FU-" He was cut off by the ceiling falling, and everything went black. vvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvv

The next thing Mike knew, he was surrounded by darkness. Confused, he tried to remember what happened, or where he was. The pure darkness was disorienting. Where was he?

He tried to sit up and figure out what was going on. Small problem, though, he couldn't. Then it hit him. He accidently made the ceiling collapse, and now he was trapped under eighty pounds of rubble.

"Shit" He swore, beginning to panic.

He tried with all of his might to move, but the rocks wouldn't budge. The panic was making his breath come fast and ragged.

"Help! I'm down here! Please! Somebody help!" He cried desperately. Fully aware that anyone nearby would be either too weak or too dead to help him.

The tears began to fall. Mike couldn't believe that this was it. He would die, not from a zombie attack, but trying to get a bag of Doritos.

He thought of his older sister, Nancy. She promised that she'd come back. She said that she would only be gone for a week. But a week stretched into two, which stretched into a month, until their coalition pronounced her dead.

Ever since they lost their parents in the initial attack, they hid out in the CSZA. (Coalition for the Survivors of the Zombie Attack.)

Nancy Wheeler was a top fighter in the team. She was a gifted shot, and quickly moved up the ranks. She was sent on dangerous missions while Mike wasn't allowed near the walls of the encampment. He was warned that if he ran away, then he was no longer the CSZA's responsibility. He would be on his own.

He was only twelve at the time, so of course he listened. At the time, there was no one there anywhere near his age, and he sometimes got lonely. His sister was out on missions more and more often, leaving Mike on his own. He normally hung out with the people who tended the farms in the Coalition. They put him to work, but he didn't mind. The company was nice. There was no one there his age, and he doubted that there ever would be. After all, twelve year olds don't often survive end of the world scenarios on their own.

Then, one fall day, he was proven wrong. It was sundown, and all of the Fighters were soon to return. They heard someone at the gate, but it wasn't anyone they knew.

When they opened the gate, they saw a girl standing there. She was about twelve. Her nose was bleeding and she looked like death itself.

Everyone thought she was a zombie and prepared to shoot. Even though Mike begged them to hold their fire, they didn't listen. They shot her.

At that moment, Mike really wished Nancy was there. Because if she was, she would've covered his eyes. But she wasn't, and he couldn't look away.

Just as the bullet was about to hit, it stopped in midair and clattered to the ground.

Before they could shoot again, Mike quickly ran and threw himself in front of the little girl, who had collapsed to the ground, throwing his arms out to the sides in a protective gesture.

He was angry, furious that anyone could shoot at a little kid like that, "Stop! She's just a kid, you monsters! You can't just shoot at someone just because you think they're zombies!"

He looked down at her. Her brown eyes were wide, and her nose was still bleeding, but she was alive.

"Are you okay?" He asked, softly.

The girl nodded, "Okay," She said.

He stood up and offered his hand, "We're going to get you help, okay?"

She nodded and took his hand. He helped her up, and they hobbled toward the camp.

"What's your name?" He asked.

"Eleven,"

Mike gasped as he snapped out of the flashback. He was so deprived of oxygen, that he had begun to hallucinate.

In his mind, though, he couldn't help but finish the story. He remembered making friends with the girl. He showed her the few things left that brought joy. He might've even begun to fall in love with her. The two might've shared something more than friendship. She stayed for two months, then right out of the blue, she disappeared. Soon after, Nancy disappeared. Then Mike left the Coalition.

He cried as he thought of how the person that he shared that bond with was dead. He cried as he thought of how his sister was dead. He cried for all that he had lost, and he cried for all that he would never gain.

Soon he was out of tears, and nearly out of oxygen. The panic returned full force, and he screamed until his throat was raw, "Help! Please! Someone! Anyone!" He begged.

He was well aware that screaming would only deplete his air supply faster, but he didn't care. He screamed until his throat began to bleed. The air was too little to live on.

Soon, he couldn't do it anymore, and faded into unconsciousness.