Chapter 2: The Apocalypse Begins
Zeke paced back and forth on his porch, eyes darting toward Jenkins' house. Julie sat on the steps, shaking her head, still trying to process what they had just seen.
"So, what now?" Julie asked, her voice steady despite the panic bubbling under the surface. "We just gonna sit here while zombie Jenkins starts biting people?"
Zeke stopped pacing and looked at her, his mind racing. "We gotta get in there. See if there's more. He looked bad—like, real bad—but there might be a way to stop this before it gets worse."
Julie stood up, crossing her arms. "And how exactly do you suggest we stop a zombie, Zeke? You got silver bullets or somethin'?"
Zeke grinned and held up his squirt gun. "Nah, but I got bleach. Works like a charm."
Julie rolled her eyes but couldn't help the smirk tugging at her lips. "Fine. But we go in, we get out quick, and then we warn everybody. I ain't tryna get my face chewed off by old man Jenkins."
Zeke nodded, pulling a bottle of bleach from behind the porch and refilling his squirt gun. He handed another one to Julie, already filled and ready to go. "Just aim for the head. Bleach will melt through anything."
Julie inspected the weapon, shaking her head in disbelief. "This is some ghetto ass apocalypse prep, but whatever."
The two of them walked back toward Jenkins' house, the air growing colder as they approached. The front door was still hanging open, the shadowy interior inviting them into the unknown. They stepped cautiously onto the overgrown lawn, avoiding the weeds that clawed at their ankles like they were alive.
"Stay close," Zeke whispered, stepping through the front door.
Inside, the smell hit them first—like rotting meat and something sour, a stench so thick it clung to their clothes. The furniture was old and covered in dust, but something far worse had taken over. The walls were lined with strange, pulsating green vines, some of them oozing black sludge. The air felt heavy, suffocating, as if the house itself was alive and hungry.
Julie gagged, covering her nose with her sleeve. "This place looks like straight-up Resident Evil."
Zeke aimed his squirt gun, stepping over a pile of what looked like decayed bones. "Stay alert. We don't know what's hiding in here."
They moved through the house slowly, their footsteps echoing in the eerie silence. Every corner they turned seemed darker than the last, the shadows growing deeper, more twisted. They passed through the living room, where a TV sat flickering with static, and into the kitchen, where the sink was overflowing with black, sludge-like water.
Suddenly, a noise—a low, guttural moan—echoed from deeper within the house.
Zeke and Julie froze, exchanging nervous glances. "That's not Jenkins," Julie whispered, her grip tightening on the squirt gun.
The moaning grew louder, and then they heard it—shuffling footsteps coming from the basement door. Zeke motioned for Julie to stay back as he crept toward the door. His hand reached for the knob, and with one quick motion, he flung it open.
Out of the darkness, a decaying figure lunged forward—Jenkins, but worse than before. His skin hung loose from his face, one eye missing, and his mouth stretched wide in a horrifying grin. He stumbled toward them with surprising speed, teeth gnashing, claw-like fingers reaching out.
"Shoot it!" Julie screamed.
Zeke raised the squirt gun and fired. The stream of bleach hit Jenkins right in the face, and his skin sizzled and bubbled like it was melting off. He let out an unholy screech, staggering backward, but still coming toward them.
Julie, now in full panic mode, pulled the trigger on her squirt gun and blasted Jenkins in the chest. The bleach hit him hard, and this time, the chemical reaction was enough to send him crashing to the ground, twitching as his body dissolved into a pool of sludge.
"Holy shit," Julie gasped, staring at the mess.
Zeke wiped his forehead, breathing heavily. "Told you. Bleach."
But their victory was short-lived. The moaning didn't stop. It grew louder, more intense. From the basement, the sound of shuffling feet and inhuman groans began to rise, followed by the unmistakable sound of clawing at the stairs.
"They're coming," Julie whispered, backing up toward the front door.
Zeke didn't need to be told twice. "We gotta get out of here. Now."
They turned and ran back through the house, sprinting toward the front door. Behind them, more figures emerged—zombies, but not just Jenkins. Others, people from the neighborhood they recognized, all turned into monstrous, decayed versions of themselves. Some crawled out of the kitchen, others stumbled down the hallway, all of them hungry and moaning.
Bursting out of the house, Zeke and Julie slammed the door behind them and raced down the street. Their hearts pounded as they glanced over their shoulders, watching the figures slowly emerge from Jenkins' front yard. The street was no longer safe.
As they reached Zeke's porch, they heard more screams—this time from the other side of the block. Zeke's eyes widened in horror as he spotted them: more zombies, and not just regular ones. Some were twisted, mutant versions, like the ones from video games—one had vines growing out of its back, another wielded a chainsaw, its face covered in blood.
"What the hell is goin' on?" Julie shouted, panicking as the chaos unfolded in every direction.
Zeke stared, still trying to make sense of it all. "It's everywhere… the whole block is under attack."
The neighbors had started to come out of their houses, confused and terrified. Some ran, while others grabbed anything they could find—baseball bats, knives, even firecrackers. But it wasn't enough.
"We need to tell everybody!" Zeke said, grabbing Julie's arm. "We gotta get people ready. Rally the whole block. We can't let this spread any further."
Julie nodded, her face grim with determination. "Alright, let's get the word out. It's time to fight back."
They raced down the street, shouting warnings to anyone who would listen. "Zombies! The block's under attack! Grab whatever you got—we're fightin' these things off!"
As more neighbors joined them, arming themselves with whatever they could find, Zeke and Julie knew one thing for certain: they weren't just fighting for their own survival anymore. They had to protect the hood.
And the apocalypse had only just begun.
