People are condemming the poor guys who killed themselves in the ten years during and after the infestation... Hell... Suicide doesn't have to be suicide. I'd rather point a gun to my head then become one of those bastards...- Dwayne Adams

How long had it been?

No, really, how long?

My life had already flashed by my eyes. My life had already slipped through my fingers and out my ass a couple times over. And for what? A humvee with Sheen gunning towards God knows where.

Carl was dead. I knew that much. He was thrown somewhere, a ways off from me. I was already halfway to the truck before I heard him scream. I was probably in the humvee before he died. We were already gone when he turned... Into a zombie, I mean. I look pack on this now: We were just kids. We were less then kids, hell- We were teenagers who all thought they'd be the best thing since sliced bread or Albert Einstien or something. I think the zombies made everybody step back and think: This could have been me. And y'know- that's good. In a sick way.

Anyways, we were hauling down the road, standing up every five minutes or so to spray zombies off the roof. I don't know how we all learned how to shoot, maybe it was the years of me taking them to places and then having to shoot their way out.. Maybe. This wasn't one of those stupid zombie movies where we were all protective about ammo in the beginning but after we find the huge stockpile or whatever it doesn't matter anymore. Oh, hell no. There was two, maybe three of thirty round clips for the weapons we were using. The random assortment of knives were worn and the food on the bodies would last about two days. We weren't stupid. And the gas... Well, we didn't think about the gas.

Libby had broken her ankle, and Cindy was bleeding pretty bad. You can tell the dead blood from the human blood- Zombies got this nasty sticky yellowish brown stuff, while humans bleed straight red. She was covered head to toe with both. I didn't know what to do with Libby unless we found a town with a hospital- quick, but Cindy could be patched up easily enough.

It was the middle of nowhere. A small forest in jumping out of a flatland. And our truck, our ticket out of here- Our goddamn chariot to heaven, or hell, or whatever awaited us... Broke down.

I think Sheen summed it up best:

"Goddamnit."

Authors Note: Woah, I updated.