The Living Dead

 

The living dead

The apocalypse had arrived, and humanity teetered on the brink of extinction. Survival was the only law, and morality was a forgotten concept. Life was as fleeting as the sunrise, and death was a constant companion. No one knew the true cause, but whispers spoke of a failed experiment that birthed the living dead. Some, unable to accept the decay of their loved ones, hid them away, chained them in cellars and barns, clinging to the hope of a cure. But the infected only sought to attack.

Griffin sat in his bunker, listening to the news, his frustration mounting. He cursed the president's inaction, the endless speeches that did nothing as the world crumbled. He sighed, mentally inventorying his dwindling supplies, knowing he'd soon have to brave the dangers outside. He was startled by the announcer's voice: "The President has a message."

"My fellow citizens," President Ben began, his voice heavy with false sincerity. "It will be alright. Remain calm. The National Guard is working tirelessly to restore order. This trial will pass. We will look back and say we overcame. We will prevail. We will never give up. Together, we can fight this setback and emerge victorious."

Griffin shook his head, a mixture of sadness and disbelief washing over him. How had this man become president? How could he speak such empty words while people starved and died without medical care? What was there to prevail over? He knew this madness had to end. Action was needed, or humanity would become another victim of the living dead.

Sarah couldn't help but wonder how she and her six-year-old son, Jason, would survive. It had been almost a week since her husband, Frank, had gone out to forage for food, and still, he hadn't returned. A cold dread snaked through her, raising gooseflesh on her arms as she imagined venturing out into the ravaged streets. The moans of the living dead, a constant, guttural chorus, echoed in her memory, a stark warning.

She surveyed their home, a fragile fortress against the encroaching horror. The door was barricaded with a haphazard collection of furniture, a flimsy defense. The windows were boarded up, with only a few narrow slits offering a glimpse of the outside world. It was through one of these that she currently peered, her heart pounding, desperately hoping to see a friendly face, a sign of help.

"Mummy?"

Jason's small voice, laced with hunger, broke through her desperate vigil. She turned, the weight of his words pressing down on her.

"I'm hungry."

Sarah sighed, the sound heavy with exhaustion. "There's nothing to eat, Jason. You finished the last piece of bread yesterday."

"That was yesterday, Mum."

"Yes," she replied, her voice flat. "Go and drink some water, that will help."

"Mum, there's no water left." Tears welled in his eyes, mirroring her own silent despair. "I'm hungry."

"Hush, Jason. Keep quiet," she whispered, her hand flying to his mouth. "Or we're done for."

He wriggled free, his lower lip trembling. "But..."

"I said, calm down," she cut him off, her voice sharper than she intended. "We just have to wait for your dad."

"Where is he?"

"He went out to get us food."

She turned back to the window, her gaze sweeping the deserted street. The sun beat down, baking the cracked pavement. The silence was almost as terrifying as the moans. The world was a tomb. She knew she couldn't stay here, but the thought of stepping outside was paralyzing. She hadn't eaten in two days, and weakness gnawed at her. But she had to be strong. For Jason.

With a firm resolve, Sarah got up and started removing the furniture blocking the door, moving slowly to avoid attracting the undead with any noise.

"Mum! What are you doing?" Jason asked, his voice trembling. He'd witnessed the undead's brutality firsthand, how they'd attacked and devoured their neighbors, even though his mum had tried to shield him from the horror.

"We're getting out of here now," she said, picking up a table and carrying it to the center of the room.

"But... the undead?" Jason asked.

"Aren't you hungry?"

"But I don't want to die, Mum."

"It's either we die from hunger and thirst, or we face it out there now. Come over here and help me with the chairs."

Griffin checked his rations and sighed, disliking what he saw. He sat down and reflected on his life, trying to distract himself from facing the undead.

It all started one sunny morning when he was working as a lab assistant with the Biological Modification Group (BMG). He couldn't recall what he'd done, but that fateful morning, he was dismissed for insubordination for calling his boss a "toad in a human laboratory coat." He left, and within an hour, the screams began, which he remained unaware of for about a week. BMG had tried to hush it up until it was too late.

Griffin shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. He knew he couldn't change the past, but he focused on how to survive the apocalypse. He had one advantage, which strangely brought him a sense of peace: he was alone, an orphan since childhood. He stood, walked to his observation lens, and peered out. The street was deserted, with no sign of the undead. Hurriedly, he grabbed his rucksack and slung it over his shoulder, a baseball bat in his hand. Silently, he opened the door leading from his bunker to the room above.

Sarah's body shook with fear of the undead. She was surprised by how sweaty she was and how her teeth chattered, despite a slight cold.

She looked down at Jason, whose eyes streamed with tears, knowing what awaited them if surrounded by the living dead. "But... Mum," he tried to say, but she hushed him. "Sssssh, be quiet, or we're finished before we find any food."

Jason whimpered as he saw a few bodies on the street, unmoving. The stench made him gag and vomit. "Easy now, Jason; we don't have far to go," his mum encouraged him.

She planned to visit old man Lanny's store, two blocks from her home. Before Frank left, he told her how the store remained un-ransacked due to Old Man Lanny's security measures. She cautiously moved along the street, witnessing the undead's devastation as they searched for prey. She passed the salon where she styled her hair and shuddered. Suddenly, she turned to Jason. "Did you grab the rucksack?"

"No, Mum," he replied.

"Shit, how are we going to take food home?"

"We can go back home and grab it," Jason said, wanting to return home for safety.

"No matter," she said. "We've already reached half our destination, and we'll be impoverished if we don't get there."

They moved on, and when they reached the end of the street, she peeked out while holding Jason's hand. Seeing no movement, she counted to ten, and then they dashed out hurriedly, moving towards the end of the street where old man Lanny's store was located.

Griffin emerged from the house with extreme caution, understanding that a single error could be fatal. He hurried down the street, hoping to find supplies at the store, a location he believed might still have some due to the owner's security measures.

Reaching the store, he meticulously scanned every shadow and corner, vigilant for any lurking undead. Peering through the window, he saw no one inside. He wrapped his baseball bat in cloth to muffle the sound before smashing the glass. He then used a pocket knife to disable the latch and slipped into the store, carefully avoiding the alarm system, which he knew the paranoid old owner had set up.

He began to search the store and was taken aback to find almost everything untouched. This unexpected orderliness triggered his instincts. In a world ravaged by the end, where items were either looted or destroyed, the untouched state of the store raised a red flag, prompting a cautious approach.

As he continued to search, he heard a noise outside. He quickly moved to the door to investigate, and what he saw stunned him: a woman and a child fleeing with five undead in pursuit. 

Sarah knew she was in trouble as she ran towards the store. Her only option was to run, and if it came to a standstill, she would protect Jason. She shuddered at the thought of the undead ravaging her, which pushed her to run faster and urged Jason to do the same.

"Come on, Jason, we need to get to the store!"

She turned to look behind her and was shocked to see the undead keeping pace. Knowing she wouldn't make it, she urged Jason onward, attempting to buy him time.

Griffin saw the woman's predicament and swore under his breath, not wanting to see the only human he'd encountered get eaten. He hurried to the window and stepped out with his baseball bat over his shoulder. Jason skidded to a stop when he saw the man approaching, panting from the run. Before he could cry out, the man reached him and pushed him towards the window. "Get in there and keep silent."

Sarah was shaking as the undead approached. Too afraid to look back, she hoped Jason had reached safety. She balled her hand into a fist, not wanting to go down without a fight. She steeled herself as she prepared to face her doom. She saw the mindless undead coming, one in particular faster than the rest. She closed her eyes and said a silent prayer for her son, but her death never came. A breeze blew past her ear with a resounding "whoosh," and a baseball bat hit the lead zombie in the face, sending it crashing to the ground. A man ran past her and stomped his heel on the zombie's head, pulverizing it. "Get to the store now," the man said without looking back, picking up his bat and setting a stance for the oncoming zombies. She ran to the store, praying the man would be okay and nothing would happen to her savior.

To be continued...