We Don't Live; We Survive

I was 15 when it happened. When the disease spread and the dead rose and walked among the living. I was there when my parents were bitten in a struggle to get my younger siblings and I out of the house. I was the one who had to watch as the military killed them and saved the three of us. I was the one who had to hold it together for my younger siblings and I was the one that under went “training.” The government had been working on a plan in case this situation would occur. My sister, Raven, and I were chosen along with a select few to test this “training,” unfortunately, Raven died in that camp. The training was hard and took up most of the day. We got three quick meals through out the day to keep our energy levels up. A quick, cold shower at night and then it was off to the bunk houses. Raven wasn’t the only loss we had. She wasn’t the only one that rose again either.

Our city has been enclosed by a heavily guarded, iron barrier; no one is allowed in and no one is allowed out without mayor Lindon’s approval. The city lives in fear of what goes on behind those barricades, every now and again some families want closure, to make sure that their family members are at peace. That is partially why the Hunters came about. That’s what they call us, “Hunters.” Sometimes if a village has been over run by Undead we are called in to do a rescue.

Ration cards were essentially given to families when the chaos first started, now that everything has been set back into a normal pace, well as normal as you can get in this situation, we are now free to use a new system. No money, no ration cards. Just an honest policy. You take what you need and check out, the only purpose of checking out being that business owners’ know what’s in their inventory.

Everyone lives in fear here. Fear that the Undead might break through. Fear that they’ll be next. Fear that someone close will be next. In this world, we do not live; we survive.