The Struggle for Life

Until the morning comes, it’s a strife, time goes by, as day and night turn into years… years on the run from the infected. It feels like a long bad dream at times, really long, but it’s no dream, it’s my reality. Name’s Lizzy, It’s my life, in good and bad weather, abandoned house to overgrown woods, to the streets coated in the deceased, diseased, walking upon those unfortunate corpses that layer the streets. Its my job to make it this way, through government testing I have become Immune to the infection, I am lucky to be alive right now…but living in this hell is my cross to bear at the same time. It’s been 4 years since the plague, damn Capitalist pigs tried a new drug, make massive loads of money on some crops to turn ‘em into a weight loss supplement, supposed to have negative 3000 calories a serving. Trial run got sold ‘cross the country to see if there were any side affects… yeah, well if you haven’t already figured there were some….setbacks. These infected work like your run of the mill zombie film’ cept they are tough as nails and’ll run at ya pretty quick some of ‘em lost some senses because their brains are too far degraded… no need not to take them seriously though. I used to relate the word zombie to the figures I’d watch on the screen of my T.V. as I would watch horror films on Netflix… from the comfort, of my home… many years ago.

Man, home… that’s a feeling I have been missing, not having one for the last 3 years has been one hell of an ordeal, especially out in this wasteland. Survivors are cooped up for the most part heavily barricaded inside certain cities and towns across the United States. Considering we have lost 90% of the population it’s fair to say that the infected have an advantage… that’s where I come in. I am, a mercenary of sorts, my jobs to kill and harvest various bits of the infected to bring back in order to create more vaccine, scientists have failed to artificially grow the needed things for the vaccine. The abandoned bits of the country are my farm, I am the farmer… who acts like Rambo…. And kills everything. It’s one of those jobs it’s kind of hard to explain on those dating websites… “ so what do you do?” they may ask, Like how on earth do I reply that, like I leave city walls often to go attack infected and harvest off of their corpses for research. Jeez that couldn’t land me some deadbeat Star craft player who lives in the basement of his moms place, like I said this my cross to bear…