Starting Over...

It had been at least a year since the plague wiped out most of the earth's population.

I was one of the few survivors, including the four members of my group: Jessie, my childhood bestfriend; Zach, my older brother; Tina, a cashier at my formerly local grocery store; and Danny, a random stranger from my small hometown in southern Indiana.

The five of us had stuck together and survived ever since all hell broke loose... that's a day I'll never forget... it was my 21st birthday.

-FLASHBACK-

"Tonight's gonna be so awesome!!!" Jessie squealed from the backseat of my brother's 2002 Jeep Grand Cherokee.

"I know," I agreed from the passenger seat, "I can't believe I'm turning 21! Aah!!"

"Oh, please," Zach chuckled from behind the wheel, "You already drink like a fish, what's gonna be so different?"

"I won't have to hide my can of beer when the cops show up to parties anymore, that's what." I replied back matter-of-factly.

Zach rolled his hazel eyes behind his green Raybans sunglasses.

"That's a great aspiration for life, Kayla." he said, but couldn't help smirking.

"Oh, come on, Zach." Jessie piped up again, "Don't rain on Kayla's parade just because she's in her prime and you're like 30 now."

I cracked up laughing as my brother shot my best friend a how-dare-you look in the rearview mirror.

"I'm only 29!" he corrected her sharply, and she giggled.

"Relax, Zach! I'm just teasing you." Jessie reassured him, calming her fit of giggles.

"Yea, yea.." my brother scoffed.

I smiled at their banter as I rolled down the window, allowing the warm summer air to whip into the cab, sweeping my long auburn hair off my shoulders.

I dug into my purse, locating a fresh pack of cigerettes. They were Marlboro Reds, my favorite kind. I unwrapped the plastic casing, flipped the pack open and whipped out the first one. There was nothing like the feeling of having plenty of smokes.

I slipped the cigerette between my lips and sparked my pink camo Bic lighter, watching the end of my cigerette as the flame danced around it. I puffed on the cigerette twice, then exhaled the smoke. It was sucked out of the Cherokee like a vaccuum.

"Those things are gonna kill you one day, Kayla." Zach warned me for the hundredth time as I flicked the ash out the window with my thumb.

I rolled my dual colored eyes, one green and one honey brown. I had always embraced my heterochromia.

I had heard this speech a million times, and not just from Zach. But, I had been smoking since I was 15 years old, and I didn't intend on quiting anytime soon.

"That's okay, Zach," I replied as I glanced over at my brother, "We all die someday."

I stared at him as I took another drag from the cig, then exhaled. Zach shook his head and just focused on driving. He knew lecturing me would do him no good.

I turned my attention back out my window, waiting out the rest of the ride to the grocery store.

-LATER-

"All right, let's make sure we've got everything," I regrouped as Zach, Jessie and I huddled around the cart in the snack aisle.

"Jello for the jello shots, frozen pizza, doritos, oreos, cups, plates..." Jessie began naming items in the cart, "Oh, and we can't possibly forget the Captain and Mr. Jack." she smirked and motioned towards the bottles of Captain Morgan and Jack Daniels in the cart.

I wiggled my eyebrows at her and she giggled, causing her long, curly blonde hair to sway a bit.

"Sooo we got everything, right?" Zach asked, looking at each of us.

"Yup, let's go!" I replied as I pointed toward the cash registers.

As the three of us made our way to the check out lanes, we noticed a small group of customers forming somewhat of a line, although it looked more like a clump. They all seemed a little confused.

Some people had full carts, others had just a few items in a basket or in their arms. A middle aged man next to me held a single carton of milk in his hand. He looked frustrated and impatient, dressed in a t-shirt, pajama pants and slippers.

There was only one lane open in the checkout, and the cashier was absent.

"What's going on?" Jessie wondered aloud to no one in particular.

"Carlos, to your register, please," A woman's voice echoed through the store over the intercom, "Carlos, to your register."

"Looks like Carlos decided to take a 20 minute break instead of a 10.." Zach chuckled to himself.

I reached over and snatched the latest issue of People Magazine off the rack next to the candy, flipping through the pages and skimming through the articles of the latest celebrity drama.

After several minutes of waiting, there was still no sign of Carlos.

"Carlos, to your register, please." The woman's voice rang out over the intercom, sounding sharp and annoyed this time, "Carlos, to y---"

The intercom suddenly shorted out, causing an abrupt screeching noise. A few people in the cluster were startled and jumped a bit.

Then, there was a few moments of silence... But the sound of items falling off shelves and displays being pushed over could be heard from the back of the store.

"...Something isn't right..." an elderly woman whispered a few feet away from me, and my body tensed.

I found myself staring at her. Her comment was off putting and very eerie...

Suddenly, a horrible, ear shatterimg scream erupted from the canned soup aisle.

The cluster of people around us began to stir and chatter nervously, staring in the direction of the scream.

A tall, thin girl with short brown hair, dressed in the orange cashier's shirt and khakis dashed out of the aisle, fear and blood splattered across her face.

Behind her, a man in the same uniform hobbled up the aisle, the nametag on his shirt reading "Carlos"... But there was something morbidly wrong with him.

His eyes were milky white and bloodshot, and his flesh was an unnatural rusty color... it dissolved and rotted off his cheekbones, revealing his jaw bone and yellowing teeth..

Blood dripped from "Carlos"'s mouth, down his chin and stained the front of his orange shirt, which looked greasy and grimey anyway.

There was a disgusting, gaping wound on his neck, that was what looked like a bite mark..

His ankle was snapped, dragging on the tile with a sickening scraping sound, and his arms were outstretched, reaching for the cashier as he drug himself along.

Everyone was frozen in fear and disbelief, staring at this... this... zombie? I mean, was this some practical joke for Mtv or something?

Oh, but it wasn't. That would have been a gift from God.

"OH MY GOD..!!" a woman in the group finally screamed, dropping her carton of eggs on the floor and pointing down the aisles.

Everyone began screaming and scattering about as they laid eyes on the entire heard of undead creatures droning toward us up the aisles, knocking miscellaneous items off the shelves as they dragged and clawed their way closer to us.

I had no control of my body, simply standing frozen and dumbfounded. This wasn't real. It couldn't be. This stuff only happened in movies.

"KAYLA!!" Zach's voice thundered, and the next thing I knew I was being yanked backwards. I was unprepared for the sudden movement and lost my footing, toppling to the ground.

Just a few feet away, right where I had been standing, a zombie took down the pajama clad man from before. I watched in sheer horror as the undead beast sank its rotten teeth into the frantic, screaming man's neck. It then proceeded to rip the flesh and tendons from his body, making disgusting snapping and sloshing noises.

As Zach pulled me up off the floor, four more zombies dogpiled the man's body, ripping the flesh from his arms and legs, tearing into the soft skin of his stomach and unraveling his intestines... all while he screamed and tore at the slippery tile floor to get away.

I could not believe what I was witnessing... There was so much blood...

All of a sudden, one of the zombies chewing on the man's left arm lost interest in him, and gazed up at me. It was definately a woman, her long red ponytail was matted in dirt and blood. Her dress and stockings were dirty and ripped in multiple places, and she was missing one of her shoes.

She beared her gruesome teeth and let out a horrible screech before lunging at my legs.

I screamed as she latched onto my ankle, and kicked my leg wildy to break free. To my horror and disgust, her brittle wrist snapped after a few kicks, her boney fingers remaining intertwined tightly over my jeans.

"Holy fucking shit..." I gasped, staring wide eyed as the zombie kept crawling for me, despite missing her hand. Nasty, gooey black blood seeped from the wound at the end her arm and smeared all over the tile floor.

Zach grabbed ahold of my wrist again, dragging me through the chaos. Jessie wasn't far behind, and as I ran the severed zombie hand fell limp and released my ankle.

Outside, it was much worse. Fires blazed in a few of the trees and in the floors of the office buildings around the grocery store. Zombies roamed everywhere, chasing down the frantically screaming town's people in mass numbers... most weren't able to escape.

Cars were crashing into street lamps and store fronts, bursting into flames, killing any living person near it and setting fire to the undead, who simply became walking fireballs.

Frantic humans ran into gas stations with weapons and bags, ignoring desperate clerks and employees, grabbing everything they could... even police officers dropped their civil duties and fell into panic and survival mode.

The end of the world was actually happening.

Somehow, Zach, Jessie and I made it safely through the parking lot and into the Cherokee.

"What the FUCK is going on...?!" Jessie screamed, tears streaming down her pale face.

"I don't know, I don't know.." Zach rambled as he struggled to get the keys in the ignition, "I'm waiting to wake up."

Finally, he steadied his shaky hand just enough to slide the key into the ignition, turn it, and ignite the engine into roaring life.

"WAIT!!"

There was a shout just as Zach threw the Cherokee into drive.

I looked out the window to my right, and there stood the tall, short haired cashier. Her dark brown eyes were wide and full of fear, and the blood was still smeared across her face.

I glanced down at the nametag clipped to her orange polo shirt. "Tina".

"I don't have a car," Tina pleaded breathlessly, "Please, help...!!!"

I glanced at Zach, but Jessie wasted no time in throwing open the backseat door and ushering Tina inside the vehicle.

"There's no way we can leave her here!" Jessie insisted as she slammed the car door.

Neither my brother nor I protested.

Without another word, Zach hit the gas pedal and we whipped out of the frenzied parking lot and headed toward home.

The car was silent, minus the roaring engine as we sped through the now nearly deserted streets of our small hometown in Indiana.

I desperately searched the radio, hoping for some news, anything that might give us some information. But, no matter which button I pressed, all I could hear was static. It was as if all life had just ceased to exist.

Finally, I gave up on the radio and sat back in my seat, peering out the windshield. I almost immediately wished I hadn't.

The town was full of bodies, laying everywhere; in the streets, in the sidewalks, in the bushes... even behind the wheels of crashed or overturned cars. And these bodies were slowly beginning to reanimate, on a hunt to feast on the living.

I peeked into the rearview mirror, looking at Jessie and Tina. Jessie stared out the windows, her baby blue eyes wide, and Tina did her best to keep her gaze down. She rocked back and forth slightly.

I kept watching as Jessie began to dig in her purse. She quickly whipped out her inhaler, and took two deep puffs. As she exhaled, she visibly calmed down.

Jessie had always had asthma, ever since we first met at age 5 in Kindergarten. In fact, that's how we met. It was recess, and Jessie was sitting with a teacher, using her inhaler because she had ran in a game of tag for too long.

I could remember sitting on the side of the playground in the shade with her, watching her puff on that inhaler and thinking it was so interesting and unique.

From that day forward, we had been completely inseperable.

I reluctantly tore my eyes away from my best friend's reflection and my mind redirected itself away from the fond memory and back into this sick, gruesome reality.

I turned my attention to Zach. His broad, masculine jaw was clenched tightly. Behind his sunglasses, his eyes were wide and terrified.

He gripped the steering wheel in a death grip with both hands as if the Cherokee would spin out of control if he didn't.

I placed my hand on his shoulder, but he didn't move, or look at me. He just kept driving forward. Jessie's neighborhood was our first stop, only a few minutes away.

As we pulled up to the intersection for the neighborhood, Arrowhead Mannor, Zach coasted straight through a red light and continued right through the open gate into the community... which didn't look much better than the town.

Garbage cans were overturned and tossed about, their contents littering the yards and sidewalks. Mailboxes were askew, some completely ripped from the ground. Cars and trucks were either left abandoned, set ablaze, or overturned and smashed to pieces. Most of the homes had smashed windows and front doors left agape.

Then there was the blood... there was so much of it. There were bodies laying in crimson pools that dripped down the driveways and into the streets, and zombies crouched over them to chew the remains. I felt like I could puke as I saw them ripping the organs from the body's of people who had been living an ordinary life just a few hours ago.

The area was littered with debris, body parts and bloody handprints... I didn't even want to imagine what we were going to find at Jessie's house.

Zach blew through three stops signs before taking a rignt onto Maple Avenue... Jessie's street.

My heart pounded as we continued all the way down the street, slowly pulling to a stop in front of the third to last house on the right, 2382... and my heart sank.

Jessie let out a horrible screech as we all laid eyes on three bodies in the driveway of her home, torn to bloody shreds and strewn across the yard. the bodies of Jessie's mother, father, and younger brother.

The doors to their Toyota Camry were left hanging open, and luggage lay next to what remained of the bodies.

"They tried to get away..." My best friend sobbed in the backseat. "They're gone... o-oh my god..." Her sobs became more violent as the death of her family sank in.

I shed quite a few tears myself as I reached into the backseat and put my hand on her shaking knee. Jessie's family had always been like my second family... and now they were gone.

Realizing there was nothing left to see, Zach whipped the car through the neighbors front yard, and we backtracked our way out of the neighborhood.

"What about your family, Tina?" my brother asked the cashier.

She quickly looked away.

"I-I live alone.." she stammered meekly.

Zach said nothing more, deciding to leave it at that.

We were now headed to our property out in the country side where I lived with our mom and dad, and Zach lived in a small one bedroom bungalow that our father had built him on the back edge of the property.

It felt like an eternity, driving past city limits, through the hills and cornfields before we reached Thomas Road, where our property was.

I felt sick as we rolled to a stop in front of the property, and I could do nothing but stare in disbelief.

Our field of a front yard was overrun with roaming zombies. Some chewed on other bodies, most droned about mindlessly.

Slowly, my eyes took in the big picture. Our large farm style home was up in bright orange flames, smoldering to the ground.

The source? My mother and father's red Ford pick up truck, smashed into the garage and barely recognizeable.

My parents were dead. They were gone... I would never see them again.

I was suddenly overcome with rage and immense sorrow.

"Drive.." I said to my brother as I buried my head in my hands. I couldn't bear to look any longer.

So, he did. He didn't ask questions... he just drove.

-HOURS LATER-

The sun was setting, casting a calm orange glow over the cornfield we were driving next to. The peaceful feeling was very out of place.

All we had was each other, this Cherokee, and no destination. No where to call home anymore.

This all felt like a huge nightmare, and I was just waiting to wake up... but I knew I was already awake.

"Hey," Jessie's voice broke our silence, "Guys, look!"

She leaned up between the two front seats and pointed out into the cornfield where a man in a red flannel shirt and jeans was running from a group of 8 or 9 zombies.

He had a shovel in his hand, and he turned and swung it as hard as he could at one of their heads. He landed just the right spot, smashing the skull and causing the body to fall limp. Blood sprayed all over, splattering across the stranger's chest.

The man turned around and kept running, the other zombies tripping and stumbling over the now lifeless body.

Before I knew it, Zach had whipped the Cherokee through the cornfield, speeding straight for the flannel clad man.

When we reached him, he seemed to surprised to other humans alive, and with a vehicle no less.

Behind me, Tina threw open the backseat door, and Zach craned his head over his right  shoulder, making eye contact with the young man.

"Get in!!" Zach hollered to him, "Hurry!!!"

The stranger complied, diving into the backseat without hesitation. He slammed the door shut and we darted off again, leaving the hungry zombies in a frenzy.

For a few minutes, the stranger was quiet, only making sounds of breathing deeply and catching his breath.

I glanced at him in the rearview mirror.

He looked to be about Zach's age, 28 or 29, with sandy blonde hair and blue eyes. He wore a red flannel shirt and jeans, definately giving himself a country boy vibe.

After a few more minutes of tense, silent driving, the stranger spoke up.

"... I, uh... really appreciate you guys picking me up." He spoke with a slight drawl, but not much. "I would have been dinner for those things for sure."

Zach hesitated a moment, then nodded in response.

"No problem.." he mumbled. "I'm Zach."

"Danny." the stranger said with a slight bow.

My brother glanced at me expectantly and I sighed, feeling obligated to introduce myself.

"Kayla.." I muttered flatly.

"Jessie."

"I'm Tina."

"Well, I'm glad to meet you guys." Danny kept on, then paused a moment, "... I'm guessing you're all as clueless as I am in this?"

"You'd be right.." Zach agreed keeping his eyes on the road, "Our families are gone."

Danny nodded.

"My mom and sister, too.. those things,.they.." his voice became sad and trailed off.

Then there was silence again for a few minutes. We all knew what Danny was trying to say, and it obviously wasn't a very comfortable conversation topic.

"...I know where we can get guns and ammo," Danny suggested, breaking the silence once more, "We're gonna need 'em."

-PRESENT-

And so it all began.

Danny, Tina, Jessie, Zach and I stuck together, growing and strengthening through survival.

We kept the Cherokee running smoothly and decked it out so it was zombie, or "walker", proof. The five of us were on the road a lot, traveling south from Indiana.

We took shelter in tons of places, never staying in one place too long for fear of being overrun by the undead.

We collected different weapons and ammo, becoming expertly skilled with guns, knife work and archery.

As well as our collection of weapons, I also had another collection going. A personal collection.

Over the months, I had collected over 40 packs of smokes, at least 16 lighters and countless books of matches. I had my stash hidden in my bag, and since I was the only smoker of the group, I could make them last a long time.

Each member of our group had lost our families, but over time we had become a new one together.

And after a year and a half of gruesome travel and near impossible survival, we stumbled upon a goldmine of safety and luxury in this new world: a prison.

There was just one problem...

Another group of survivors had beat us to it.

-TO BE CONTINUED-