NF-3A Story by Kyle
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.
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.
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.
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
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.
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.
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.
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.
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!”
© 2012 Kyle
Added on April 16, 2012
Last Updated on April 16, 2012
AboutI'm 18. Always been interested in writing. I enjoy a good plot. Good Vs. Evil never gets old. Message me, I love a good conversation, too. I used to be working on a book, that I kind of lost the.. more..
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