NF-3

A zombie apocalypse story.

There was a time in my life when I would've said the end of the world was far off. When I would've laughed at the idea of how it had ended, too. As I sat in the shade of some tree on a warm day, I guessed to be about mid-spring, I couldn't help but smile a little, even under the circumstances.

It was ridiculous, really, funny, hilarious, you name it. I really don't think anyone could've guessed that it would have ended like this. None of the one's that died had even really gone down in a “blaze of glory”, that of course, we would've expected in southeast Tennessee. There wasn't a mass fight to the death, no army came to save us. Not even the reserves were thinking of others. It was a mass panic, especially when the first cases started to pop up all over the globe.

It started simple, a mild fever, some nausea. A couple clinic visits, prescribed drugs, and they were supposed to feel better, right? It seemed to stay at those particular symptoms. You know, simple stuff. Stuff that no one would ever think had the ability to wreak such havoc.

They called it the NF-3 Virus, which really just meant it was an evolved version of necrotizing fasciitis, a germ that hungered for flesh, and literally ate it. Fed off of live, human flesh, and it raised the dead.

If I remember correctly, the original virus was only something that came along every once in awhile, found in wet areas, mostly, and by wet, I mean under water. Last I heard, the virus loved wet places, and I suppose that makes sense, seeing as how the only way you can get NF-3 is by getting bit, I think, but there was always speculation before the TV's died that it could be transmitted through bodily fluid, too.

It didn't really matter, I tried to stay as far away from the damn things as I could. Of course, I say that, but right now, sitting under a tree on top of a hill near the town, you could've figured otherwise. I looked over to the backpack I had brought with me from the school, it was worn and tattered now, a brown messenger bag with the straps about to start fraying on the sides. I flipped it open and pulled out a small pair of camouflage binoculars I had kept since I was young. They served me well, and I supposed that's why I kept them. Because they were useful to me.

That was another thing about me. I didn't know where any of my family was. I hadn't been with them when we heard the evacuation sirens, which sounded the same as the tornado sirens, since that's what they really were. We had been told multiple times during school, my last semester in high school, that the tornado sirens would serve as evacuation sirens should we need to evacuate at a moments notice, and of course, we did. I just hoped my family was safe, I had called them on the phone, and they told me to just meet them at the military checkpoint downtown, where they had erected the barricades and walls.

I never made it in time. When I had gotten there, the transports had already shipped out, the military vehicles were gone, presumably because of the walking dead that had come to the place. It was by no means overrun, but it looked as though the military had shipped out in a damn hurry, and took all the bullets with them.

Ammo was scarce now, which I should have already knew. I played enough of the zombie games, watched enough of the movies that I should've known. You never get the shotgun just lying around the corner. Never a secret gun safe full of ammo. People cleared those things out when they left, those who made it alive apparently knew where to put them so when they did die, the guns would never be found.

My thoughts made me swear under my breath, and I reached down to grip the handle of the 9mm pistol I had managed to salvage off a walker that had it strapped to it's hip. That and a metal baseball bat were the only two things I could use in self-defense, and even then, I had maybe 18 bullets left for the gun, with 6 left in the clip. It wouldn't last me much longer.

I reached inside my bag again and pulled out a pack of crackers and opened them as quietly as I could, I bit into one and found it stale, but I couldn't pick and choose as much with what I ate anymore, food was even more scarce than ammunition around here.

I raised the binoculars to my eyes and looked through them, down the main strip of the town. Nothing, as far as I could see. Not even a one of those walking corpses. I sighed a tad in relief, taking a bite of another cracker. I couldn't be too careful, especially in places like this, places that used to be populated with people, no matter how few corpses you actually saw moving, they were there, just out of sight. But seeing none that singular moment was good enough for me. I dropped the package of crackers and stood up under the tree that had become my vantage point, my home, for the past hour or two. Time was definitely never an issue now.
As I ran to the bottom of the hill, I ducked low, under some bushes that lined the sidewalk, I slid under them and surveyed the street once more, I was out to salvage, and salvage I would do. It seemed simple enough without any infected around. Skirt down the sidewalk, low, fast, duck into the drug store and see if anything's left, preferably medical supplies, or food.

But it's never that simple. I heard the groans coming from the side street, as one or two of them shuffled into view. That made things more complicated. While none of the infected were fast, in numbers, even a few, they could surprise you. Grab from anywhere, and seemingly appear out of nowhere sometimes. They were surprisingly strong for rotting corpses, and where there was one, there was more. I weighed my options in my head. I could run for it, get the stuff quick, kill the ones I could, and get out. Or I could sneak around the back of the story, try the door, and try to get the supplies quietly.

The back door would be safer, I could get in, and get out without raising suspicion, at least I hoped so. I scooted back out from under the bushes and got up to a crouching position, skirting along the opposite side of the bushes with my head just under the height of the things. I found a break in the bushes at someone's drive and darted across the road, diving behind a parked car and pausing, listening.

Nothing. Not a sound, not even shuffling. So far so good. I stood up and looked to the back of the drug store, fifty feet, maybe. I ran. Sprinted. As fast as I could to the back door, trying it without waiting to listen. Mistake number one. I heard the shuffling and the low guttural groaning of the dead behind me. I turned and drew my gun, staring down a corpse that stood before me, it looked like at one time it had been a man, but most of it was already too decayed to tell. Its clothes were torn to shreds, barely covering its body. I pulled the trigger before it could move.

Mistake number two. The sound would just draw more zombies to it, like dogs to a whistle. I had to move fast. I pulled on the door with new vigor, and it came free and swung wide. I moved inside, pistol still drawn. I shifted my messenger bag and threw the lid open, moving through the store quickly and silently as I could. It wasn't easy. My nerves had already been on edge through lack of sleep. It happened when you had no one on guard for you, you had to be on guard yourself, and to a young man who enjoyed his sleep, staying awake was taxing for me.

There was nothing left in the store, it had already been ransacked more than once by the looks of it, I grabbed a thin roll of bandages from the floor, and went through the aisle and found a half warm energy drink to shove in my bag, I could use it later to keep me up another night. I rushed out the back and sprinted across the street back the way I came, there was no point in stealth now, speed was my only ally.

I heard groaning in the distance now, faint, but I knew it was only that way because of the blood and adrenaline pumping through my ears. I sprinted up the hill and down the gravel road I had traveled earlier. They called it a nature trail, back when it really mattered. It was for viewing the various plants and animals that could be seen around the small one-horse town. I was headed back to the school, if I couldn't lose them before then, I could barricade myself into the room I had been using and wait until they lost interest, if they ever really did lose interest.

My lungs ached as I pushed myself further, asthma as a child wasn't getting me very far right now. The trees ended, and I was left in a field across from the school, a long stretch, and my lungs burned, my legs ached. I pushed myself further. Across the field, into the school without looking back. I paused inside, leaning against the inside wall and slowly sinking down to my a*s. I tried to take deep breaths, but they just wouldn't come.
“Damn it...” I muttered. I wasn't very good at the whole running for my life thing, I never had been. When it came to running, from anything, I used to just shut down. I would've rather curled into a ball and tried to stop thinking than run. I heard something bump down the corridor, and I drew my gun and stood as quick as I could. Striding to the source of it. Something moved again and I cracked the door, quietly, and peaked in the room, in the corner there was a figure knelt down, it's shoulders shook like it was sobbing. Corpses couldn't sob. I closed the door behind me, gun still pointed at the figure, the door made a click, and the figure turned towards me and stood up quickly, screaming. “No don't shoot don't shoot!”

What I now saw to be a young woman stood up with her hands in front of her, waving them frantically, “I'm not dead! I'm not dead!”

Reviews

[That_Girl]

Well I was going to be nice but then you told me to so now I have to be an a*s.

Kidding.

Surprisingly good actually. Not that I didn't think you were capable, I did. I just didn't think I'd enjoy the zombie s**t. But it was really good. I may even read the next installment. :O

[VocalDragon]

Omg, good start. I've never read a zombie novel, but I'm in now. Hope to see more :)

[Kyle]

Haha thanks so much! =) I'm actually debating on whether to keep posting it or not, because I really thought about publishing this one as an E-book.

[Drifter]

I love zombie- well, usually it's movies. This is one of the first zombie stories I've ever read and so far, it seems pretty solid. There are a few things I thought could use a little tightening up, but that just made be the difference in our literary voice that's speaking. All in all, it's something I'd choose to read more of. Nice job.

[Kyle]

Well there's 11 other parts for your viewing pleasure. Thank you. =)

[Palewriter]

Congratulations on getting the award, I'm glad I read this.

[Palewriter]

I thought you did a great job of writing this. It was interesting and it's obvious you took great care to make sure everything was spelled right and the grammar correct. A very well written zombie story with plenty of tension and description.

One line said story instead of store I believe.

[Elaenor Aisling]

The best (though the only) zombie story I've ever read. :)