Untitled Zombie Frerard

Okay, this is the draft of the first little section, let me know what you think. It was intentionally meant to be a one shot, but it's really long in my head so it might be two chapters instead. Also, it's yet to be broken down into paragraphs so excuse the large block of text.

Tears tore through my eyes, tumbled over the edge and flowed freely down my blood stained cheeks as I saw the only person I had left get devoured by the flesh craving living-dead. I couldn't hear my own screams as his cries of pain ripped through my mind, ricocheting off the walls of my skull and  leaving a permanent scar. They swarmed round him, like moths to a flame as soon as the crimson liquid was spilled from his veins, his heart now unwillingly forcing it into the mouths of walking corpses. Their teeth clamped round chunks of his skin and viscously peeled the clumps from his skeleton. His voice stopped as the blood now filled his throat and cut off his oxygen supply and a low gargle was emitted as his last attempt at calling for help. Even I knew it was useless. It took everything in me not to run out and drag my brother from their greedy claws but I knew that would be a suicide mission. Now, Mikey was gone, the only thing left was bones being crunched and grated, the remains of his skin being scavenged by the hungry. I had to run. They weren't distracted anymore. I pushed away from the door of the shop I was locked behind and sprinted to the stairs. I took them two at a time, speeding to the roof as fast as possible, my heart pounding. I could hear my pulse thudding in my ears, but even that couldn't mask the loud crack of the store door giving way to the famished dead, they could already smell their next meal. Me. I reached the top and flung myself at the door, relief flooded through me as it swung open with ease. I slammed it shut and took off running again, toward the edge of the building. The end of my jeans caught on a loose pipe, splitting them at the seem on the inside and pulling me down. An immense pain seared through my head as it made contact with the floor. Shit. I quickly picked myself up, terrified the dead were hot on my heels and ran to the edge. The next building was slightly lower but still a way up from the ground, the gap between no more than a few feet. I took a risk, springing lithely when my left foot hit the dead end of my current location. My arms helicoptered at my sides and slammed down on the concrete as my knees buckled underneath my weight coming down on the next shop roof. I made it. I took a quick glance behind me and no lurkers had made it through the door yet. I started sprinting again, to the next roof. Wal-mart's roof. That had been our residence for the past two weeks, ever since the zombie apocalypse exploded. It had everything we needed but showers. Nobody cares what you smell like when you could be torn limb from limb any second though. I knew exactly how to get onto the roof from this side, a quick hop at the far back, left corner to the ladder cut short so the dead couldn't get up. A firm grip on the ladder step and you haul yourself up the the first level window, climbing inside to what we call the panic room. Finally, i was safe. Secure doors, bolted and barricaded shut with as much stock as possible on our side of the fort and a whole arsenal in a chest, courtesy of my father. When he was alive, his priorities were keeping me and Mikey alive. He died saving us, threw himself off the roof to the lurkers because they noticed movement. Once he was gone, the dead thought that was it and the building was empty. I looked around me, this was now my lonely home for eternity. I was free to brake down now. I collapsed in a heap and violent sobs rocked my body as I grieved for my brother. I had to keep quiet. I curled my hands into fists and locked my hair into them and tugged fiercely. He's gone, he's never coming back. My only hope, my only reason for survival  joined the parade of Lurkers. I failed my dad too, the last thing he told me was 'keep your brother safe, he's your family now' and now look, Mikey is lost in the battle against those who don't want to die, humanity evidently loosing the war. Another soldier has been killed. I cried for what felt like hours, but time is a lost cause in this battlefield. I awoke to my stomach turning, the contents churning in painful circles and I heaved, vomiting up all that it contained in three disgusting gags. I spat the last of the taste out of my mouth. My eyes hurt, red raw from the litres of salty liquid that escaped and my greasy, matted hair stuck to the mixture of blood, sweat and tears crusted onto my cheeks. I pulled myself up and snagged a tin of baked beans and a plastic spoon. I dragged my heavy frame to the stairs and plodded my way to the roof. What was I going to do? I had nothing to live for now but myself, and that's a pathetic excuse for a life.