Disclaimer:I do not own or claim to own the Zombie Survival Guide or any other work mentioned in the story.
The Runaway, a story by Ebon Writer rated M for language, gore, and possibly more.
A Short Prelude
My name is Will, short for William. Geoffry, a last name I've always despised. Middle name Simon, like the game, though its rarely ever that simple. My name however, does not matter, because I changed it, after I ran. Those who know me, call me Adam Pierce. I am fourteen years and three hundred and seventy two days old. Yes that would make me fifteen, but I've never really felt fifteen, so I consider myself an excess fourteen year old. This would probably be the part where I say something epic or reassuring, like it's tough on the streets, but I made it through. I didn't, not really...
There is a beat. A rhythm that life seems to follow, 'seems' being the keyword. Life can seem a lot of things. Life can seem good, life can seem bad. I'm told life can even seem like death... but who would know that? So it was on this day that life seemed a lot of things. It seemed bad, at least for the moment. For once in my life, it seemed uncertain. But most of all it seemed exhilarating. For once in my life, I had the freedom to make my own decisions. Freedom from the bonds of family ties, and freedom from the worries of everyday life. You might say I was naive, My head was filled with the stories of Pony-boy, and Huckleberry fin. I thought I would make it through unscathed, but the streets were harder than I had thought. And there was almost nothing that could have prepared me for the menace lurking within the sewers and dark alleyways of Denver.
If you want me to say it was wrong to runaway, then you are probably right, under normal circumstances. To those of you scattered across the world, trying to make your way in a Zombie infested land, this story is dedicated to you. May my story grant you knowledge on the dangers of Zombie apocalypse. Most of all, to Max Brooks and the Zombie Survival Guide, to those of you out there who have picked up this priceless guidebook in the nearest ruined bookstore, and to those who were wise enough to get it beforehand. This is my story, as best I can tell it.
Chapter One
Organize Before They Rise
Denver: 9:33 March 3rd 2010
"Your total comes to... uhhh- hold on a sec," she said, her name tag said Molly(though the second 'L' was smudged enough to make it look like a 'D'), the cash register said nothing. Her finger tapped the keys of the cash register repeatedly, monotonously, one tap after another, after another, as if willing it to work. "I'm. Sorry. This. Isn't working," she stated blatantly, her beady eyes staring down at my coffee, before reaching for it. I stepped back, grasping the coffee with both hands.
"Look we both know the coffee is 79 cents, this has to be the billionth time i've-" there was a brief flash of light outside, a burst of flame, accompanied by the screams and shouts of people running through the streets, a mob of people, driven into a frenzy. "Hold on," I said, my large, brown eyes staring out the store window.
At the girl, who ran about the streets screaming for her mother. she couldn't be more than eight. Where was her mother?
At the man lying on the asphalt in a pool of his own blood, which reflected the raging fires, as he was trampled by the unrelenting crowds of blurred faces, before his head was smashed by a hastily passing blue car. I could hear the sickly crunch as his head was crushed under the weight of the small car, like a nut in a nut-cracker, or maybe I imagined the sound, as I could hear little from behind the store window.
The blue car screeched to a halt as the door swung open, and a small, scrawny man tumbled out, stumbling to his feet. 'Shit!' he mouthed over and over again. He pulled repeatedly at his thinning hair-line, as he stared aghast at the man he had just killed, murdered, mutilated... squashed.
He stepped back, stumbling blindly into his car, instinctively grabbing for the seat belt. He fumbled with his keys, dropping them onto the floor-board, 'shit', his eyes went wide. And then the mob descended upon him, his screams would have been loud enough for me to hear. I could no longer see the little girl, her tear stained blue dress, or her wild, golden locks. Had the mob taken them too?
The door of the corner store, slid open with a barely audible hiss, as I walked through them, my mind in a daze. What in hell was going on? "Hey you gonna pay for that?" Screamed Moldy from behind me, as she tried to lift her heavy form over the oil slick counter. "Hey! you! get your ass back here!" she stumbled off the counter, landing straight on her back with a resounding thud. "Fuck you!" she said, lying on her back, trying to hold back tears.
Truly I didn't think she cared about the coffee(coffee which I had mindlessly dropped onto the ground after exiting the store) I think she was just trying to hold onto something, grasp onto something before being dunked into the abrupt chaos which was erupting all about her. But at the moment I wasn't even paying attention to her. My mind was focused on the TVs. across the street, blaring from behind a store window which said Fongolio's Teevo's in elegant red lettering. All the TVs were turned to CNN news
"Good Evening, this is your evening- beeeeeeeeeeeep - We interrupt this program to bring you this Presidential Address." The screen went black for a moment before showing the image of our recently elected President Barack Obama. He stood on a raised podium, the national seal, hanging behind him, and cameras flashing all about him. His eyes held a darkness, a sorrow for the sad news he was about to bring. He opened his mouth briefly, trying to find the words to speak. The crowd murmured, the flashing of the cameras getting inconsistent. He looked to his wife, standing idly to his left, gathering the support to address the crowd gathered before him.
"This is your President Barack Obama, there have been recent accounts of a virus spreading through our great nation, a virus causing our own brothers to turn against us, shortly after being declared dead. This is a National Emergency, all citizens are asked to remain-"
The TVs cut power, cutting the presidents speech off, leaving me staring blankly at the reflective black surface of the screen. My throat hurt, I lifted my hand to wipe the sweat forming on my forehead. What could he mean, after being declared dead?
My mind flashed back to the night before, the moon which lit the alleyway, and the man, the man in the moonlight, yes that was important. He approached me, lumbering forward, as I was backed into an alleyway, his ragged form framed by the moonlight behind him. And then he-
An explosion of flames from a bookstore to my left brought me back to my senses, rubbing the bruise on my shoulder, wincing at the pain. Books lay scattered amongst the broken glass which littered the streets, glass which reflected the flames of the burning bookstore.I began passing through, my steel toe sneakers stepping on the tattered pages of several scorched books. Scorched pages fluttered through the air about me, the ashes gathering upon the ground like snow. I covered my mouth to keep from inhaling the ashes that fluttered about, gathering in my hair and clothing.
The mob grew thicker all about me, agonized faces pushing their way past me. A woman, no more than twenty one, pushed past me, grasping at her bleeding skirt, tears running down her face as she was pursued by three men, wearing tattered clothing, jeans wide open, and an eager look on their dark faces.
A man stumbled past me, before slipping on a large, leather bound book. He lost his footing, slipping with a thud, onto the cluttered ground. He moaned, trying to lift himself off the ground, but his arms failing. He looked up at me, with one eye, the other eye shut tight with a shard of glass protruding from it. Blood filled his mouth, blood from the shards of glass that penetrated his cheeks. A large gash on his left cheek made it look like he had a second grotesque, and lipless mouth.
'Mommy' I heard someone shout. Suddenly a mass of blue fabric, rushed me, slamming into my gut. I hunched over, the wind knocked out of me, before falling to the ground. Next to a girl in a blue, tear stained dress, with wild golden tresses.
She lay next to me, cuts covering her arms and her face. The blue dress, tattered beyond repair, and soaked in tears, sweat and blood, hung loosely about her childish form. No longer able to conjure the voice to speak, she mouthed mommy over and over, as she tried to choke back tears, she tried to breath, but was only able to gasp as she fought against the lump rising in her throat, the need to yell out. The mob was everywhere, swarming around us.
I took a heel to the chest, with a sickening crack, accompanied by the scream of the girl as her hand was smashed beneath the pressure of a worn sneaker. I had to protect her, not because she was small or weak, but because some-how her scream awakened something within me, something I had not felt since before running away. I flipped over, my chest throbbing with pain as I shielded her with my body. I took a kick to the hip, as someone slammed down onto the back of my leg, causing my leg to buckle.
I was going to fall. But I couldn't, If I did, I would squish her, so I held on, lifting myself with my straining arms alone. I took a knee to the face. Knocking my head forward, and then, I saw it. It's scorched cover lay right below me, right above the girls golden locks of hair. Printed upon its blackened cover was the title:
THE
ZOMBIE
SURVIVAL GUIDE
Complete Protection
from the living dead
Never, had I seen anything more clearly, printed in bold, black letters. I reached down, brushing the cover with my blood soaked fingers, leaving a red hand print. I looked about, the mob had cleared, at least for now. It was then, that I heard the whimper, the girl, still beneath me, was softly crying. I lifted myself off the ground, using mainly my arms, and favoring my left leg. I looked around, checking for any signs of the mob, they were a fair ways up the street.
I looked down at the girl, no more than eight, as I extended my hand towards her. Reaching up, she took my hand weakly, or shyly, maybe both.
"I'm Lily," she said, her tone sweet, almost musical, despite the circumstances. I lifted her up off the ground, nodding, as I smiled reassuringly at her. Then I reached down grabbing the Zombie Survival Guide in both hands.
"I'm Adam, Adam Pierce," I said, "Lets go find your mom." I began to head off into the alleyway, "Lets go this way, it will help us avoid the mob." She followed hesitantly.
"Alright," she said "I'm not allowed to go places with strangers, but you saved me Adam Pierce, that makes you a super-hero." I chuckled forcefully as we headed off into the alley, somehow, getting this close didn't feel right to me, I had abandoned these relationships, whats to say I wouldn't abandon her. She continued to gaze at me with her large, innocent, blue eyes. I glanced down absently at the Zombie Survival Guide to avoid her nonjudgmental, childish gaze. Printed in bold letter on the back were:
TOP 10 LESSONS FOR SURVIVING A ZOMBIE ATTACK
1. Organize before they rise!
2. ...
3. ...
...
The list went on to 10, but the first stuck out to me most, Organize before they rise. I was already a step behind. How the hell was I going to pull this off? Unorganized, and randomly wandering the streets of Denver?
"Your Last name is Pierce? Like a piercing?" she asked, eyes scrutinizing me.
"Ya, like the piercing," I said "Just less painful I guess."
"My Mommy, would never let me get a piercing," she said, shaking her head, and her wild, golden tresses, "Guess she'll be pissed when she learns I got one." she said, tone serious, though it was obviously a joke. My shoulder shook, bobbing up and down as I laughed, a deep, hearty laugh, a laugh I could not contain. Nor did I try...
End of Chapter One