*Chapter Three: Means of Survival - The need for sustenance.*

Z-Day | 12 hours after the frenzy began

Feed. Feed. Feed. It was as if the hunger within me was crying out from my insides. I have to fight it. I just didn't know how right now. It is dark. The shadows are only enlightened by the fires that still rage. Buildings are still catching fire and the cries of the living are only dwindling. What replaces those cries are the moans of the dead. The moans and groans of the growing new race that takes over this world. It is as if Hell has opened up and made Earth its bitch. My heartbeat was still going but only slower. I was able to survive with this disease that has shown its wretched face upon this planet. But why am I any different? Are there others like me? Would they try to kill me on sight like the normal survivors had?

Feed. Fuck. There it was again. That annoying pain in my ass that was this infection's craving need for flesh. I got to my feet and felt an instant rush of blood to my brain. The intensity of the pain was almost unbearable. "Ahhh, ahh!" I screamed out in agony as I heard the moans nearing me. I looked around and realized that I had attracted the dead with my screams. Wait, I can see them. It is fucking pitch black outside and I can see them. "It must be the infection heightening my senses," I thought to myself. I knew I couldn't ride the bike out after dark because of the headlights being out. They had been out way before this shit started, but I had been too lazy to fix them.

I didn't want to waste the gasoline anyway, so I started to walk. The infected seemed slower at night, even more so than during the day. Perhaps I'd be able to study this fucking pestilence and make a cure. Oh, who am I kidding? I'm no fucking scientist. I continued on my way. I knew there was a small market nearby. But it was probably up in smoke by now. I used to go there when I was a kid. My mom would give me a dollar and tell me to go get a candy bar so we could split it. We had been poor while I was growing up. Even though my cognitive thinking was waning with each passing moment as this infection spread throughout my veins, I can still remember my mother's dying words.

"Make something of yourself, baby. Prove to the world you're not a screw up. My family abandoned me when I had you. They called me a whore. They called me...a mistake. I couldn't handle it. Do better than everyone else, Anna.. You can do it."

Then she gasped and took her last breath. Even now that I had become...this thing - I feel like I have failed my mother. I never made anything of myself. I just became a video game designer, then lost that job. But hell, all I wanted was a Left 4 Dead sequel. What was so bad about that? "Fucking assholes," I mumbled to myself as I remembered how they had security throw me out. About 2 months after that, my best friend Ashley had been the one that got me the job at the Stop 'n Shop. She mentioned it had a great health plan and good wages. But she didn't mention how much of a douche Mr. Morgansfield would be. I still think she was banging him and the only reason I got the job was he was probably promised that he'd get to bang me too. Well, tough luck on that. Probably didn't fire me because he didn't want a lawsuit on his hands. Probably. Maybe. What if.

I shook my head. Memories wouldn't help me now. I have to continue onward towards whatever future I might have, if any. I turned the corner on Beckingsail Avenue and forced a smile to show on my lips. The old market was still standing, seemingly untouched. "But that's what it always looks like. And it always ends up being a trap." I tightened the grip on my baseball bat and walked up to the door. I reached up under the old out of service phone booth and found the hide-a-key. The power was out and I didn't have a flashlight. But I knew where there was one.

I jumped over the counter and slipped my hand under the lip of the countertop. There was a switch there that released a flashlight. "Alright," I said as I caught it in my hand. It was an old maglite that the cops used. Old Man John showed me where everything was one time. He was a lonely old hermit and had no one else since his wife died. Who else to show than the girl that came in every other week no matter what? His reasoning? Just in case anyone ever held up the place. I thought it was crazy at the time - hell I was eight years old. Now, I couldn't be more appreciative of the old man. I flipped another switch under the cigarette case and a small machete dropped down.

I flipped on the flashlight and looked around. The place hadn't even been messed with. He probably never even made it in this morning. That saddened me, but hopefully he was okay. I couldn't be worried about anyone right now. I had to be concerned about what else I could find. I broke the case and grabbed two packs of cigarettes. Didn't know if it would help in the long run, but if I ever needed to light one up, I'd have them.

I walked around the store, looking for any type of food. Feed. Feed. That damn craving again. I grabbed my abdomen once more as my head throbbed with the desire once more. I walked to the back finding the meat case. I put my hand against the glass and realized that it was still cold within the case. There was a steak still on display. Not much was in there since I knew he had a sale last week, but there was something. Feed! That was it. I didn't need to feed on human flesh. Just...flesh. I swung the maglite and broke the glass. I reached in and grabbed the meat. It was a bit bloody and I almost couldn't stomach the fact I would have to eat this raw.

No, I don't need to eat it raw. I walked in the back and turned on the small stove that was back there. The gas was still working at least. I threw a pan on the burner and threw the steak in. "Just a little tint...that's all I need.." My mouth was watering as I watched the meat sizzle. Then I heard a crash. I turned around and shined the light. "Fuck.." I held the maglite up and shined it towards the front of the store. There was a noise that sounded eerie. A high-pitched cackle then a hacking noise. It was like there was someone with a bad cold in the front of the store. "No..that can't be it. This is the fucking apocalypse.. Colds don't exist anymore.."

I walked out to the front of the store and noticed this tall looking zombie. It had a long dangling thing from its face. Its arm was covered in what seemed like boils. The smell emanating from the fucking walking corpse was terrible. Then it turned towards me. Its eyes were pure white and its face had even more boils than its arm. It wasn't attacking me. It just stared at me - if you can call that staring.

I walked up to it and raised the machete. It stared at me while I looked at it, as if to watch my every move. It made no sense. Why weren't the dead attacking me? I then raised the machete up against its neck, pulling back for a moment before slicing hard against the neck, chopping its head clean off. Greenish ooze spewed from the body before it collapsed on the floor. I kicked the head out the door before I turned to go back to my meal. I don't know what brought me to go ahead and kill the poor bastard, but...I felt it needed to be done. And yet, killing it made me feel horrible. Made me hate myself. I shook my head as I removed the steak from the pan. I wiped the machete clean and used it to cut into the meat.

There was still enough blood in the center. Medium-rare. Perhaps this would help me sustain a life as well as quell the desire from the infection. I licked my lips before I grabbed the whole steak and began to devour it. I was eating it like a fucking monster. Like a goddamned wild animal. I didn't even take a moment to savor the meat. It was filling. I licked the blood on my lips. Craving more. The feeling was not gone but it was satisfied. I leaned against the stove and looked down at the empty plate.

I wished there had been more. Perhaps I could survive without having to eat humans. Perhaps there is another way so people don't have to continue to die. But I knew that was just a fairy tale I was telling myself. I wanted more. But there wasn't anything else in John's store. No red meat anyway. I grabbed some packages of pepperoni and threw them in my backpack. I stepped over the zombie's corpse that I had killed. I made my trek back to the bike. The stars were starting to disappear from the sky as dawn was nearing. I looked to the hazy sky and questioned myself. "How long was I in there?" It seemed that time had gone faster. It made no sense.

I made it back to the bike and tied the backpack on. I could see in absolute darkness but I still wanted the flashlight. I slid it into another strap and tightened it. I kickstarted the bike and revved the motor. I knew that I'd have to find other means of travel soon enough, but this baby was maneuverable. I'd try to get something else eventually.

I rode off west. I didn't know where I was going. I knew I needed to get more than just the pepperoni that I had on me. I needed to survive. For that to happen, I need meat. I can make the best of this situation I make an effort. My breathing was still really slow and my heartbeat was even slower. I couldn't let this crap get the best of me. I need to survive. I need to make it. I need to... Feed. "Fucking hell!"