A Zombie Apocalypse For Two [Short Story]

[Ghost]

Hello again all... I'm back from the dead, and by that I've mean i've returned for a night only to be gone for a span of around three weeks or so. The pattern will continue on for an eternity...

But anyways, I was bored the other night and just started to write. This here is the result... It's inspired mostly by AMC's The Walking Dead, the actual Walking Dead graphic novel, and anything really Zombie related.

It's typical shit, but I thought it was alright, so I figure why not contribute here? I'm aware it's rather short, but oh well.

Comments/Review appreciated

-Ghost


--------------
Phoenix, Arizona. What was once the home to several professional sports teams, hookers, and delicious baby-back-ribs, was now a desolate wasteland devoid of any human life. The pungent smell of rotting corpses filled the air, and if I wasn’t already used to the smell, I’m almost positive that I would’ve cried. The eaten bodies laid strewn on the side of the road, with only minimal bits of flesh laid hanging off their skeletal structure.

The zombies had been here along time ago.

The outbreak had occurred about three weeks ago, in the month of June. No one is really sure where or how the infection first started; all we knew is that it quickly spread all over the country. New York, Chicago, and Los Angeles were all completely infected within a matter of hours. It took only a week to reach the rest of the country. The people in the Midwest had tried to barricade their houses, maybe try and fight off the infection, but it was no use. Of the three hundred million people in America, over ninety-nine percent of them were zombies. The numbers were just far too staggering to try and stage any fight back. There was only one strategy to stay alive; a trade we had already perfected.

Stay on the move.

I took a drag of my cigarette and slowly let the smoke escape out my nose. The smoke tickled my unkempt beard as it rolled out, which had to be at least a couple of inches in length by now. Keeping clean was not a necessity in the United States of Zombies. My once pristine long sleeved dress shirt was now torn and covered in buckets of blood, almost now the color of a light crimson. My hair was long, black, and for the first time in my life, my bangs had begun to creep into my eyes. My black dress pants had somehow stayed un-torn, but were also had begun to turn an odd shade of red. All I carried on myself was my trusty shotgun, a .50 caliber Desert Eagle pistol, and a backpack full of food, lighters, and cigarettes.

Taylor, on the other hand, had the qualities of an angel still, even though she was covered in blood as well. Even in this hot weather, she still wore her Chicago Bears Jay Cutler jersey, and a pair of tight fitting jeans that well accentuated her figure. Her once long hair had remained tied back in a pony tail for the past few weeks, but regardless of this fact, she looked beautiful to me. The only thing she carried on herself was her father's old six shooter; the only true remnant she had of her old home.

Taylor sighed as we continued to walk down the long, industrial road. Twenty story buildings covered our view of the skyline, reflecting the light from the hot, hot sun back down upon us. It had to be at least one hundred and thirty degrees down here.

I wrapped my arm around Taylor’s waist and pulled her closer to me. “What’s the matter girl?” I asked her, resting my head atop of hers.

She turned and stared directly in my eyes. “I didn’t want to say anything… But I’m exhausted. I don’t think I can go much longer without any sleep.”

I peered around at all the buildings, then back into her eyes. Black bags had begun to form around them. I was surprised she was able to walk at all, the way she looked.

“Alright, that’s fine. I’m kind of beat too,” I said, giving her a pat on the back. “We’ll find a place up ahead to crash.”

She smiled and gave me a long, long hug. This was the closest I had been to her in a long while, at least since Dominique died. During this time, I made sure to run my hands through her blood-stained brown hair, trying my best to silently reassure her that everything was going to be ok.

I reluctantly broke apart from our embrace and prepared to start moving. In one hand, I held my fully loaded shotgun; in the other, I held Taylor’s hand.

We began to move quietly down the street, taking every precaution in not making too much noise. There were two things that these undead bastards were attracted to- Flesh, and noise. But mostly flesh. However, loud noises to zombies meant that there was flesh for them to eat. So, naturally, they would come sprinting down the road after any noise they heard.

Thankfully for us, there weren’t too many loud noises we had to worry about. No bells or whistles or car alarms around for us to set off. This meant that we were generally zombie-free.

Hopefully our next resting place was too. There was an abandoned banking building next to us, full of money and more than likely a state of the art security system. This meant that no zombies were going to be able to sneak up behind us in our sleep. Thankfully.

I let go of Taylor’s hand once we reached the keypad for the building. Taylor had been a security systems manager at IDT before the outbreak had occurred, which was a very useful skill to have now-a-days.

I took this opportunity to light up another cigarette. There was nothing left anymore that could relieve my stress like these death-sticks could. The pack-a-day I had begun to smoke, however, was severely affecting my ability to outrun these undead freaks. Coughing up a lung was now also one of my frequent hobbies, along with driving fast and caving in zombie’s skulls.

“Alright,” Taylor began, wiping off some of the black grime and sweat covering her face. “The keypad says the door is unlocked, so we should be all set…” She trailed off.

“What do you mean, ‘should be all set?’ What happened?” I questioned, throwing my cigarette butt to the ground and moving closer to her.

“Nothing!” She exclaimed, getting extremely offensive and pushing me away. She quickly recanted what she had just done and wrapped her arms around my stomach. “Nothing. The door’s unlocked. I just want to get some sleep.”

I looked into her eyes, and saw the tortured soul who wanted nothing more than a cold shower and a nice, comfortable bed. Two things she would probably never get again.

I gently moved in and kissed her on the forehead.

“Alright, fine. Let’s go.” We headed over to the bank’s double doors and gently pressed them open.

Almost instantaneously the alarm system went off, sending a piercing shriek echoing down the streets of Phoenix. I stood there, dumbfound for a moment. How could this have happened? I glanced over at Taylor and saw a look of pure horror upon her face.

Within seconds the street was flooded with members of the undead horde. You could see in their eyes and their demeanor that they were mad, crazy, and most of all: Hungry.

Taylor and I quickly pushed the doors to the bank open, rushing into the desolate main lobby. Not even seconds after we reached the front desk, a trio of zombies entered the room, sprinting at us with a maddened determination. I wheeled around and fired a shot directly into the chest of a rushing zombie, the buckshot hitting its body with a satisfying thud and sending the remaining gibs of his torn torso flying through the air. I cringed a bit as the crimson liquid and bits of remaining flesh collided with my body.

“Clark! Let’s go!” Taylor yelled from behind me, having opened one of the meeting rooms.

I emptied the rest of my shotgun’s ammunition into the crowd of zombies, and quickly dived backwards into the meeting room. The see-through door shut behind me with a solid thud.

Hiding in this meeting room, however, was futile. The glass may have been bulletproof, but we were surrounded. The zombies completely covered the face of the wall, pounding as hard as they could on the windows. I could already hear it begin to crack. We only had minutes left to live, and we knew it. Taylor sat in the corner of the room, weeping over the fact that our lives were finally over.

I walked over to her and gently picked her up and held her close to me. “Taylor…” I prepared for my confession.

“I know that we have been friends for a long, long time. Even before this entire zombie thing happened. But ever since we were friends in High School… I have loved you. I just never knew how I should tell you. I didn’t want to break apart the great friendship we had together. Now, however, we are the only things left human on this earth… And I just wanted to let you know how much I love you.”

Taylor looked up at me, unsure of what to say. Tears were slowly falling out of her beautiful green eyes and leaving a trail down her cheeks. I went out of my way to gently wipe them off her face, savoring the touch of her soft cheeks.

Before I knew it, our lips had touched and she began to gently kiss me. The feeling I had been waiting 8 years for was finally upon me, and I couldn’t help but savor it. Her lips were so soft, so wonderful, and I couldn’t help but feel that everything in the world was alright.

She gently broke from our embrace, and looked directly into my eyes. “Clark, I love you too.” She spoke, and I saw a faint smile crack her face.

Our moment together, however, was short-lived. The panes of glass behind us began to crack, hastening our process. I gently kissed her on the lips again, and reloaded my shotgun. The last thing I wanted now, after finally finding out that the girl I had loved from afar for so long loved me back, was to die here.

“Bring it on!” I screamed, enraged with a fiery passion to kill every single on of these beasts.

The window finally cracked and gave way, and the walking dead poured in.

---------------

[Gavin Luper]

Hey Ghost!

Well, I just skimmed through this but I have to say the opening couple of paragraphs were very strong. I was drawn in by the strength of the narrative and that neo-Noir feel it had at the beginning. Yes, the post-apocalyptic thing has been done to death (ha-ha) before, but I think the strength of the story resides in the narrative voice.

I have to say though, this feels less like a short story and more like a fragment from something much, much bigger. It seems like a high concept piece - is it purely fanfic or is it a concept you could expand on and take further?

Anyway, just wanted to reply and leave my feedback for you. See you round the forums, yes?

[Ghost]

Hey Gavin,

Thanks for the feedback- If you don't get any replies, why bother continuing to write? I remember reading your stuff back in the day (The beginnings of Lisa the Legend- I'd love to catch up on what's happened but I'm not too big of a pokemon fan anymore and i'm short on time) and it's kind of what inspired me to write.

To be completely honest, I originally wrote this piece for a Creative Writing class for an assignment in which we had to write a Romance story. I've never been too good with all of he sappy stuff, but I figured that the romance aspect would be increased a lot if the two main characters were the only ones left on earth and fighting against a major threat, so I kinda just went for it.

I'd love to take the concept further, but I wouldn't really be sure where to go with it. The ending would obviously have to be changed a little bit, but i'm not sure if the narrative would be better off if I continued from this point and went forward (using certain chapters as flashbacks for insight as to what's happened) or just using this piece as a concept and developing a brand new story (a la The Walking Dead?)

Regardless, if you have any ideas, i'd love to here from you, and thanks for the input

[mattbcl]

I agree with Gavin, there's a lot of strength in this piece - from both reading through Clark's perspective, the minimal dialogue and the maximized thought processes... and the description. Description is absolutely essential to me; I like seeing authors/characters waxing poetic on details that strike them, even if it's a completely random and irrelevant object. It provides a more vivid setting in my mind. For example, Clark's sardonic mental remarks on his cigarettes and what they did (and didn't do) for him.

The moment she said, "We should be all set..." and trailed off was the moment I thought to myself, Things are about to go terribly awry. And so they did, because sooner or later, everyone's luck is liable to run out. Terribly inconvenient that these particular undead are sprinters - but then again, if they weren't, the outbreak probably wouldn't have lasted as long.

Wonderful piece. Now I need to go digging and find more stuff you've written, 'cause I like your style.

[Ghost]

Not trying to beat a dead horse or anything, but this is the first time i've checked the forums in a long time.

Thanks for the input Matt, I'm glad that you liked it. I've been working on ideas for another short story that would also involve zombies- If I ever get around to finishing it i'll be sure to post it here