Desire to Survive

It’s been about four months since our world went to hell.

My name is Oakley. Oakley Bergun. It was five days after my 19th birthday when the news announcement was made, describing the unusual disease that spread like wildfire across the U.S.

The serious news anchor explained how the disease was thought to be airborne, and how it was accompanied with a deadly fever and put people into trance-like states and gave them intense mood swings when they awoke. Little did they know, it was much more than that…

In a week’s time, the news was filled with stories of vicious cannibalism, which were linked to the disease outbreak. Thousands were reported dead, missing, or severely injured due to bites. The military was promptly called in, attempting to negotiate with the troubled humans who kneeled over bodies, ripping at the bloody flesh.

When they ignored all human interaction, they were fired at. But instead of fleeing or dying, the diseased beings became peevish and attacked the military personnel. It was reported that the things only died with a shot to the head.

We were unsafe. Entire cities were taken over by the undead in mere days. The government bombed the largest cities in America, in hopes the disease would be stopped. It had even spread uncontrollably to other continents, a true pandemic. Refuge camps were scattered everywhere but quickly fell due to those hiding bites.

The zombie apocalypse had begun…

Personally, I was lucky I had survived the apocalypse so far. I watched as my diseased father slowly died and came back a few hours later, attacking the rest of my family. He ate my brother while my mother and I huddled together and screamed, glued to the spot in fear. When the body had been reduced to bloody bones, he came after my mother. She couldn’t run. She was too terrified and stricken with grief over her husband and son. I managed to get out of the house and run for my life as she was eaten alive.

I didn’t go to a refugee camp. I didn’t go to a protected camp or military safe haven. I didn’t care, I wanted to die. My only family was dead, killed in the most gruesome way possible right before my eyes. I would’ve been next if it wasn’t for me finding my feet and escaping. I didn’t care if a walker found me on the side of the road where I walked. I would rather die than be alone.

As I trudged along in the cold afternoon breeze, I heard a loud engine behind me. A huge, sleek black RV pulled up beside me and the door opened. A young blonde lady with a kind smile leaned out to me.

“Honey, what are you doing out here? It’s freezing and dangerous! There are walkers everywhere!” She exclaimed over the roar of the diesel engine. I sniffled, wiping my tears.

“My family was just killed.” I sobbed, breaking down to the floor in a heap. The memories flooded back, images of my brother and mothers skin being ripped from their bodies.

The blonde woman gasped. “Ben! Stop the RV!” She said and hopped out, wrapping her arms around me. “Come inside darling, we’ll get you warmed up. We have hot tea.” She cooed. I felt better with somebody caring for me.

I lived in the big RV with Ben and the blonde lady, whose name was Sammy. There were four others that tagged along with us; Eddie, who complained as if it was a sport, Hannah and Elizabeth, the twin sisters who were terrified of the world’s events, and Joshua, a handsome young man who tried to cheer everyone up despite what had happened.

We all had our own stories, but we were all the same in the end. We were all separated from our families and trying to survive in this new, cruel world. We picked up more stragglers as we drove along the way until we had a sizable group of eleven. We all refused to go to the safe havens because, as the weeks turned into months, we heard the stories of them all breaking apart and everyone being turned.

I never thought the apocalypse would happen. It was fiction, nonsense, and rubbish. Zombies were mythical creatures, or so the world thought. Nobody knew where the disease started, but we knew now it was very real.

It was about a month before I gained enough courage to return to my old house to gather my things and face my father, who was undoubtedly still inside. Though Sammy and most of the others didn’t want me returning to my house in fear of me falling victim to my undead relative, Ben was encouraging of it. He was definitely a scavenger, giving me a list of things to grab if I survived.

At first, Ben annoyed me. He would always tell us that we needed to stock up on essential, which was totally true, but it still irked me how eager he was to risk his life for a few handfuls of canned food or rolls of toilet paper. Ben wasn’t a big guy, nor was he an expert at killing walkers, so his little expeditions for supplies in abandoned houses often turned into him just running for his life empty handed.

The day came where we decided we needed more weapons and I explained how my father had quite the collection of guns back at home. My father was a very handy man. He taught me everything I knew about cars and guns, so I had extensive knowledge on those subjects. Ben quickly crowned me as an essential to our group, along with Joshua, who was just starting his new job as a doctor when the world went to Hell.

Ben quickly turned the RV around and drove to my old house. He sent me out with two large duffel bags to gather supplies, a metal pipe to defend myself, and a list of everything he wanted. I looked it over silently.

It read: Canned and boxed foods, toilet paper, batteries, guns, duct tape, flash lights, guns, knives, ammunition, guns, candles, lighters and matches, clothes, pots and pans and utensils, medicine, and guns.

“I… I don’t know if I can do this, Ben. I don’t think I can kill my father. What if there are others in there?” I stammered, looking out the RV window to the front porch of my house. Ben pulled me into a hug and looked at me through his dark aviator glasses, which were always on his face.

“Hey, you are a strong kid for your age. You can do this. I know you can.” He looked to our group. “Somebody go with Oakley. She needs protection.” Ben called.

“I’ll go.” Said Kaden, another essential man in our little family. I always felt safe around Kaden. He was a big guy, middle age but extremely muscular and tough as nails. He was a firefighter for about twenty years and after that, he ran his own tattoo parlor up until the apocalypse began. He fought with an axe and everywhere he went, his German Sheppard named Jive followed. The two were an unstoppable force.

I felt better about what I was about to do.

“Come on kiddo,” Kaden called after me as he exited the RV at a steady trot. He looked everywhere for signs of walkers with axe ready as he ran onto the porch. I ran after him, grabbing the two duffel bags. The man looked into the windows before trying the doorknob. It was locked. Jive the dog sat patiently as Kaden roughly kicked the door in.

I raised my pipe, ready to fight off whatever came my way. We stepped inside cautiously, looking around. The house smelled of death and dust. It made me want to cry, knowing the remains of my family were inside somewhere.

There was a loud grunt, and Kaden raised his axe as my dad’s corpse walked around the corner from the hallway. His grey flesh sagged from his bones and his eyeballs had completely deteriorated from his skull. Jive growled quietly. I fell to my knees at the sight. My father…

“Jive, stay! Oak, honey, don’t watch.” Kaden said calmly and I closed my eyes and covered my ears as he went to work hacking at the body. I sobbed until I felt his hand on my back. It was over. This time, for good.

We went to work, collecting items on the list and packing the duffel bags until they could hardly zip up. I carefully averted my eyes whenever I had to pass where my mother and brother lie. There didn’t seem to be any other walkers in the house. Kaden met me in the kitchen when we were almost done.

“Is there anything else you want to grab?” He asked, putting on the heaviest duffel bag and tossing me the light one. The simple kind gesture made me smile.

“Yeah. Is it a good time to announce that I spent a lot of my free time doing archery before this happened?” I asked with a faint smile. Kaden grinned.

“You are quite the handy girl. Run and get your bow and as many arrows as you can.” He told me, and I did so. When we got back to the RV, I felt better.

My true family was dead, but perhaps that was better for them. They could be together in the afterlife, and they didn’t have to live their life in fear. With my wooden long bow, I felt stronger, like I could possibly survive this. These people were my family now, whether I liked it or not. We all cared and looked after each other. We were dependant on each other.