You know what's weird about death? We have no idea what comes after it. We know how it happens and what can cause it and what's the most likely thing to make you dead.

Death is so common that we've given it different names to describe the death. Making yourself dead – suicide. Making someone else dead – murder. Making a bunch of other people dead – genocide.

You get the idea. We know a lot about death and what causes it. Yet, despite all this, the one thing we can't put a definite answer on is what happens after we kick the bucket.

The scientific answer is that your heart stops. With that, your brain dies, and everything that was once you is now gone. You cease to exist. Humanity's massive population has shrunk by one.

Better yet, if you're religious like most of the world (and me) there's an afterlife for everyone who dies. If you were good, congratulations. You get to go to heaven and party and generally have a great rest of eternity. If you were bad, well, that sucks for you. You get tortured in hell.

Truth is, no one really knows what happens. Seriously. We base these 'facts' on assumptions we make when we're living. In order to really know something, we need experiences we can replicate. An experiment that runs the same for everyone and has the same outcome. We can't do that because the only way to experience life after death is to die permanently. And that kind of kills the point of documentation since you can't get a report from a dead guy. Not an accurate one, at least.

This said, what do I know, right? I mean, I'm religious. I like to imagine that there is some sort of afterlife, but that's only because without that, it means that death is the end. You just cease to exist. That thought terrifies me.

And I've been thinking about it a lot.

That sounds way more depressing than it should. I didn't always think like that. I'm not some depressed kid who only thinks about death and hates his life. In fact, death rarely crossed my mind. I had other stuff to worry about. I'd often say that bullies and homework would be the death of me, but I'd say that as a joke. What was so dangerous in my life that would actually kill me? Not much.

Well, at least that was the case until a few days ago. Something happened and death became much more common. Suddenly, a lot more things could kill me.

And one of them succeeded.

That's why I'm thinking about death so much. It's because I'm going to die. Though death was a certainty that everyone faces, you never really stop to think about it until its staring in your face.

I've acknowledged that I'm going to die. Accepted it more or less. Come to terms with my fate. But I'm still scared. Terrified.

Why?

Because I have no idea what comes next. This is part of the afterlife thing I was talking about. When you die, you end up somewhere else, or you just stop existing. Either way, your body is now dead and rotting, no longer holding the life that was once you.

But what if you never leave your body? What if the physical part of you dies, but your mental part stays?

I never thought to even consider that. When someone died, there was no coming back. We buried their body and went on with our lives. There was no reason to consider that they might be still be trapped in their body. That was the rule because when you died you didn't come back.

Apparently that rule stopped applying a few days ago. When you died, you didn't stay dead. Not for long. Only, you don't come back as you. Not fully you.

Your body still looks like you. But it's like you're not in it. You can't talk. You don't feel pain. You don't remember your life. You don't remember your friends or family or loved ones. You probably don't even remember your own name.

The only thing that seems to remain is your need to eat.

The need to feed on living flesh. Human flesh. And you don't seem to care if it's a random stranger on the street or your best friend or your parents or your kids or someone who you loved dearly because you don't remember them anymore and all you want to do is eat and eat to satisfy an unquenchable hunger that has replaced everything you ever were.

I'm terrified of dying. Not because of what comes after anymore. No. It's what I leave behind.

It's what's left of me that I'm terrified of.

It sucks how after all I've been through, this is how it ends. I've lost so much, forced to do horrible things just to survive, and I don't even get to live at the end of it. How does that even work? How is that even fair? Why do I have to die?

...

Wow.

That actually sounds really selfish now that I say it. My life isn't worth more than someone else's. You'd think after all the people I've lost in the past few days I would understand that better.

You know what's really unfair? The one's who have died – we won't be remembered. We'll just be part of the death count. And the unfortunate ones, the ones like me, we'll just be another threat to the living.

This is our story. How me and a bunch of other people – teenagers, kids, adults – fared in the apocalypse.

So, hi. I'm Sean Campbell. And this is how I became a zombie.

2: Rude Awakening

"Don't worry, Sean. We'll be together again very soon. I promise."

Those were some of the last words ten-year old Sean remembered his mom saying. Now they bounced around his mind, giving him hope as he sat in a public bus. He clutched his younger brother, Zach. Except him, Sean was with dozens of strangers, all leaving Kansas City.

He glanced to the end of the bus again. Just like the other ten times, all he saw were unfamiliar faces and metal. The bus that supposedly held his parents was blocked from view. He settled into his seat, gripping his brother tighter for comfort.

Sean asked his parents why they had to go on different buses. Apparently there hadn't been enough room for the four of them to go on the same one, and if they wanted to leave the city on time, they had to split up.

That was another thing that confused Sean. Why did they have to leave the city in the first place? The teachers didn't tell them anything at school. Neither did the television, but then again, cartoons weren't a good source for information. The only explanation he received was from his parents.

His mom said that they were just moving. Sean didn't understand this. They hadn't packed many clothes. No moving vans came to pick up their possessions. And why did they have to move in buses filled with strangers? His parents wouldn't lie to him, would they?

He trusted her. He thought she would never lie to him. Kansas had been his home for far too long just to leave it all behind. All his things were back at their house, all of his memories.

He just wanted his mom, but now he was unsure if she was telling the truth.

An angry yell from outside attracted his attention. Two men argued loudly next to Sean's bus. It seemed they'd hit each other's cars, since the bumpers had dents in them. It seemed like a stupid thing to argue about, since the entire highway was jam packed with cars. Ahead of them, vehicles honked at a standstill on the road. Some had even abandoned their cars in an attempt to move fast. Sean had no idea why they would ditch their cars.

Back on the bus, adults whispered nervously back and forth, stealing glances at the darkening sky. They'd been doing since their bus entered the traffic jam. Sean wondered why they were doing this, and if the reason had anything to do with the story his mom told him and if it was true or not.

His concerns about the truth were cancelled out by the sudden collective gasps from the whole bus. Everyone looked out the windows toward the city. As Sean turned, gasps turned to frightened screams.

A ball of fire raced across the sky. Minutes passed before he saw it slip behind the skyline of Kansas City. There was a bright flash and a moment later, a giant ball of fire filled the sky.

Sean's awe turned to fear as the fire ball engulfed the city, pulverizing what had been his home only moments before. The fire dissipated quickly, but a still rapidly growing ball of hot ash and debris was getting closer every second. The screams got louder and Sean saw people outside running for cover as the ash got closer.

Zach hid his face in his brother's chest and Sean hugged him as tight as possible. The cloud of ash hit the highway and the bus with enormous force. Sean shut his eyes as he felt it and huddled into a ball with his brother on the seat.

Glass shattered and people screamed. An intense light seared Sean's eyeballs through the lids. He could feel gravity shift as the bus rolled. That was nothing compared to the pain he felt on his back. He screamed in pain with everyone else as he was cooked alive.

The force sent the bus flying off the highway along with every other car. People who were walking were disintegrated by the heat. People shrieked as the carnage around them ensued.

Sean barely noticed it all. Through the haze of pain, he held onto the child in his arms. He had made a promise to his mom, and he would not let his brother go.

When the bus finally stopped in a crumpled heap and the ash cloud had disappeared, Sean opened his eyes. The first thing he noticed was that he was no longer on a seat. He and his brother were sprawled out on what used to be the roof.

The second thing he saw were the bodies. There was no movement from within the bus. Everyone else but them died in the blast or the following crash. Many of the corpses were blackened, either by ash or fire. Sean didn't want to think which it was.

Then came the pain in his arm. Pain so intense he nearly blacked out again. He looked at the limb and nearly fainted.

His arm was broken, the jagged bone poking out from the skin. Blood poured from the wound and pooled on the ashen floor.

Someone grabbed his hand and helped him to his feet. Sean looked up to see his brother crying, tears streaked through the grime on his face. Other than some minor cuts and scrapes, Zach managed to avoid any serious injuries.

The heat from above him told Sean that they could not linger in the bus any longer. With the help of his brother, they limped along the roof of the bus to the shattered windshield. An uninviting grey sky greeted them, but it looked better than the burnt interior of the bus.

They limped out of the ragged hole and onto solid ground. Behind them, the top of the bus, or what used to be the bottom, was on fire. The rest of the landscape wasn't much better.

As they looked around, they saw massive amounts of carnage on what used to be a beautiful landscape. Cars were piled up and burning, smashed beyond recognition. People wandered through the wreckage, looking for loved ones or stumbling around disoriented. Everything was either on fire or covered in ash.

Through the sounds of burning debris and confused voices, Sean heard a distinctly clear voice. It became clearer and clearer through the noise. It took him a while to understand what it was saying.

"Sean...Sean... Sean... Sean! SEAN!"

---

"SEAN!"

The angry voice woke me faster than a bucket of ice water. I shot up in my chair, nearly tipping over in the process. A tall man, with glasses, graying hair and an immaculate mustache, towered over me, seething in silent rage. It took a few minutes for to realize what happened: I had fallen asleep in Mr. Patterson's tenth grade history class. And Mr. Patterson was pissed.

"What makes you think you can fall asleep in my class?" he asked slowly, trying and failing to keep his voice even.

I stared blankly at him. There was no right answer to his question.

"Um..." I began intelligently, "because I was tired?"

"You were tired," my teacher repeated. A few other kids in my class giggled. "So you just decided that you would plop your head down on the desk and take a little snooze?"

"Yes."

Mr. Patterson's eyes narrowed to slits. "Well, if you fall asleep in class, maybe you're not suited to be in the academic stream."

"Well, if kids fall asleep in your class then maybe you're not suited to be a teacher."

There was a collective intake of breath from the class. The teacher's face turned a deep shade of red.

Oops. That was definitely the wrong thing to say.

"GET OUT OF MY CLASS!" he roared. I didn't need any more encouragement. In a matter of seconds, I grabbed my bag and flew out of the classroom. The door slammed behind me. I exhaled a breath I'd been holding, running my hands through my short brown hair.

Looked like I was skipping History for a few more classes. I shrugged it off and headed down the hall, rubbing my blue eyes to get the remnants of sleep out of them. Getting kicked out of class didn't bother me that much. It had happened a few times throughout the year, all of them occurring in History. I'm pretty sure that was because Mr. Patterson hated me. The feeling was mutual.

The hallways were empty at this time. I checked my phone, not to see if I had any messages, but rather for the time. My cell's nonexistent reception turned it into a bulky pocket watch. At least it served some use. In ten minutes, the halls would be packed with kids as they all tried to get to the lockers and to last period. I debated what to do.

In the end, I decided to skip English and head home. I was doing fairly well in that class, and if I was questioned for my absence, I could just make up an excuse. My teacher wasn't very smart.

I walked to the exit since I was on the ground floor. It was impossible to be on any other floor. The town's highschool was only one level. It only needed one, due to the town's small population. Rural Texas didn't have much going for it. Low population and lack of anything to do made life extremely boring.

At least the weather was fairly nice. I pushed open the doors and walked into the bright sunlight and cool day.

I also walked right into an ambush.

A group of guys surrounded me the moment I stepped foot outside. They were all big, ugly characters. I spotted their ring leader and groaned.

"Well well well," one of them laughed, stepping into the circle. He had a squashed face, like a really ugly Pitbull. His nose was crooked, broken in a fight. His teeth were yellowed from chewing tobacco all day. He was actually packing a lip at the time, and spat a thick brown liquid onto the ground. "Looks like we got a skipper today, boys! Why you skippin', Seanny?"

"I don't know, Croner, maybe I should ask you the same question," I said in monotone. I really didn't want to have to deal with this today.

"Hey!" Croner spat again. "I'm the one askin' the questions here."

I stayed silent. Michael Croner was the school's bully. He and his idiot friends would harass everybody, thinking they could get away because Croner's dad was rich. Out of all the people in school, I was among the ones he picked on the most.

"Y'know, skippin' class is wrong, Seanny," Croner continued, his mouth forming into a smile. "I think me and my friends needa teach you a lesson. A painful lesson."

That was a subtle indicator of what came next.

I jumped back to avoid the punch I knew was coming. I dodged it well enough, but forgot that Croner didn't come alone. His cronies grabbed my arms and held tight, leaving my gut a very exposed target. Croner cracked his knuckles, grinning all the while.

Oh, crap. This was going to hurt.

His arm shot forward, burying itself in my gut. Had I not been forced to stand, I would have doubled over in pain from that one punch. I sagged in the bullies arms and wheezed. Pain racked my lower body. Croner may have been an idiot, but, man, did he know how to make a punch hurt.

"Aw, c'mon, Seanny-boy," Croner laughed. "You oughta be used to this by now."

He threw another punch, this time in my side. I barely had time to refill my lungs before another punch to the gut forced the air right back out. My tolerance for pain wasn't the worst, but those blows left my midsection feeling like they were bleeding internally.

The bullies, all laughing, finally let go of my arms. I dropped to my knees, coughing, sputtering and gasping for air, clutching at my stomach. I fought back tears. No way was I giving them the satisfaction of seeing me cry.

"Can't handle a few punches, Seanny?" Croner said, putting a falsely sweet voice, like a mother chiding her child. He crouched down so his face was right next to mine. "Naw, of course you can't. You ain't a tough boy. You just a lil pussy, ain't yah? Just a big ol' puss. Can't even handle a lil bitta pain."

My hands slowly balled into fists. He could beat me all he wanted, but he was sorely mistaken if he thought I was just going to let him taunt me. I'm not too proud of what I did next, but, hey, this guy deserved it.

The hand clutching my stomach whipped out and buried itself in the soft spot between the bully's legs. Croner's eyes bulged as his groin suddenly felt a lot more pressure than it was supposed to endure. The bully let out a high pitched whimper before falling to the ground, hands desperately searching for any lasting injury.

While Croner was busy counting his sugar lumps, I took the moment of shocked silence to make a break for it. The rest of the bullies were too stunned to react on time, so it was easy to knock them aside.

"Get that sonuva bitch!" Croner screamed. That snapped his friends into action. They all broke into a run after me. Croner even managed to get to his feet and hobble after me.

The punches to my stomach really winded me, so running was not an easy feat. Thankfully, running didn't come easy to the bullies either. They lived up to the stereotypical Americans: fat, lazy and slow as hell. Croner was the only fit one of the bunch, and I'm guessing that running while holding your nuts doesn't help that much for one's speed.

I ran around the school to the side entrance. It was supposed to be locked during school hours, but the staff usually forgot to close them. I suppose that was bad because any nut job could get into the school. Screw it, though. I wasn't complaining.

By the time I reached the doors, the bullies were a few dozen feet behind me. I yanked open the doors, slipped inside and locked them behind me. Croner smashed into the window, his ugly face squishing against the glass.

"We'll settle this another day, Campbell!" he yelled, his curses muffled by the door. That was supposed to be a threat. Instead of being scared, I flipped him the bird and walked away laughing.

As soon as I turned the corner, I leaned against the wall and held my stomach. It hurt like hell. I lifted my shirt and groaned.

Purple blotches were already starting to blossom across my gut. I poked one and winced. Yup, very tender. I felt a little better then about getting a shot at Croner's groin.

I checked my phone again as I resumed my walk down the halls. Last period was going to start soon. With Croner lurking outside, I changed my mind about skipping school and headed to English. It was safer to walk home with friends than go alone.

The bell rung and kids poured into the hallway. There weren't many kids in the school, yet it always felt like it was cramped in the narrow halls. After a few minutes of dodging students and teachers, I made it into the class, taking my seat in the back.

One by one, classmates filed into the room, filling up the desks. A few of the kids, some I knew quite well, saw me and laughed. I checked my surroundings, and then myself, for the source of this humour, but I found nothing. It wasn't until Derek sat next to me that I realized what it was.

Derek was by far my best friend. He was African-American, a sore contrast to the town's predominantly white population. As a result, he was picked on frequently by the racist bullies. He had a small, well-kept afro. It was his goal to keep growing his hair so his graduation picture would have a huge mass of black above his head. Other than that, he was usually a serious guy, barely able to tolerate jerks.

"The whole grade's heard about History," he finally said, barely able to keep a laugh in.

I groaned. "Seriously, man?" Derek nodded and I slumped. "Damn it. How did word spread so fast?"

"Well, you got Sylvia in your class. What did you expect?"

Of course! Sylvia was the gossiper of the school. Shoulder length red hair and a bad case of freckles, it was a wonder that she ran with the popular crowd. They only liked her because she had all the hot gossip in the school.

"Man, I hate it when people talk behind my back," I muttered. "Especially people I don't know."

"Yeah, it does suck," Derek chuckled. "Is it any better if I told you that Matt was the one who told me?"

I punched him in the arm in response. Truthfully, it did make me feel better. Matt was another one of my friends. He was taller than Derek and I, not by much, though, and far wider. We liked to joke around and call him Fat Boy because he'd been over two hundred pounds at one point. He'd dropped most of the fat and replaced it with muscle, so we couldn't call him by that name as often. He could kick our asses.

"Okay, kids, time to settle down," the teacher said at the front of the class. All the heads turned to her, conversations dying quickly. "We still have a fair bit of Shakespeare to get through, so let's get started."

There were multiple groans from the class, mine being one of them. As the teacher started talking, I zoned out once again, my eyes drifting across the many faces of the classroom. By the tenth grade, I had heard of most of the kids in the school, but only really knew a select few.

Near the front was Terrell, or Tiny Terry as some called him, a short, pudgy kid. His ginger hair was cut short and pressed flat against his head. A few freckles spotted his pale face. He was one of the few paying attention to the teacher, mainly because he was the smartest person in the class.

Next to him was Brendon. His greasy black hair met at the back of his head in a rat tail. I couldn't see it, but his face reminded me of a rat also. His eyes were always scrunched up like he was constantly looking into the sun. He was never content to sit in one place for too long and constantly fiddled with everything at his desk.

Brian, a tall athletic boy, leaned back in his chair, his feet propped on the desk. His face was set in a permanent scowl. He was full of himself, thinking that he was going to be the next big sports star. Arrogance came with being the school team's quarterback, I guess. Blonde hair flowed well passed his eyes, and he swept them away without much of a care.

Then there was Fausto. He had his black hair styled back with a ridiculous amount of gel. His bright teeth shone and he wore his trademark grin. The most popular kid in school, and he wasn't even rich or good looking. His parents constantly left him alone in the house. His sources of fame came from the parties he would host for everyone in the grade. Nearly everyone in the grade, that is.

Now, he was talking quietly with a group of kids. Mostly girls. Many I didn't recognize, but there were a few I knew. Yvette, a blonde haired beauty queen, was stroking Fausto's hand affectionately. Not surprising coming from her. Yvette would go out with pretty much anybody.

Lilly was watching him with rapt attention. She wasn't that pretty with her frizzy brown hair or her chubby stomach. She was also a queen, but a completely different one than Yvette. I called her the drama queen, for her amazing ability of turning a small problem into a huge deal.

Todd was the only guy listening to Fausto. He had dirty blonde hair, very close to being brown. It curled on his head like a different version of Derek's afro. He was the kid in school everyone seemed to like. He was just so easy to get along with. His eyes flicked back and forth between the teacher and Fausto like he was watching a tennis match.

I didn't learn much that day in class. I zoned out for most of it, Derek managing to keep me awake when I was close to passing out. The bell's piercing ring knocked me back to reality. I picked up my bag and followed everyone out the door.

The atmosphere was completely different in the halls than in the moody class. Kids were whooping, talking excitedly with each other. It was the Friday before March Break. We had a whole week off school. Any student would be happy,

Pushing through the crowd of kids, I found my locker and opened it. Derek opened his, the one right next to mine, and exchanged some books in his bag. Just because we had a week free of school didn't mean we were free of homework.

The metal next to me slammed loudly and I jumped out of my skin. "What's up, Sean the Rebel?"

"Christ, Reggie," I said once my nerves calmed from the shock. "I thought you were Croner for a sec."

Reggie laughed, flashing a smile full of crooked teeth. Next to Derek, Reggie was one of my closest friends. His messy black hair stood up all over like he stuck his finger in an electrical socket.

"Wait, why'd you call me 'Sean the Rebel'?" I asked, finally fully understanding what my friend said.

"You getting kicked out of class, talking back to the teachers," Reggie said. "Fight the power and all that."

"See, man? The whole school," Derek laughed as I swore once again.

"Not important," Reggie continued. "You guys coming to the party tonight?"

That got both of our attentions.

"What party?" Derek asked, closing his locker.

Reggie's face fell when it dawned on him. "Fausto's having a jam at his place. He invited everyone to it."

"Everyone except us," I grumbled darkly. Now I knew why all those kids were so interested in during class. They were planning the party. That knowledge didn't improve my mood.

"Look, dude, don't worry about it," Reggie said, patting my back. "A bunch of people couldn't go. A lotta kids got sick or something, maybe the flu with the way it's been going 'round school. You're not the only ones missing it."

"Yeah, I guess..."

I closed my locker and reached down for my bag. Suddenly, my weight doubled, and a pair of hands wrapped around my eyes. The faint scent of wildflowers wafted into my nose.

"Guess who," a soft voice crooned into my ear. I didn't need the voice to know who it was.

"C'mon, Rachel, get of me," I chuckled. "Don't make me toss you off my back."

"Let's see you try."

"Alright. You asked for it."

I started spinning back and forth playfully. Not so hard that she would actually fly off, but hard enough that she had to grip me tightly to stay on. She could only stand a few minutes of this.

"Okay, okay I give!" she shrieked, and I instantly stopped. Rachel slid off my back and I gave her a big kiss. She kissed me back. We stayed like that for a while.

Rachel was the most beautiful girl I knew, even better looking than Yvette in my opinion. Her brown hair swept past her shoulders. I hugged her slim figure close to my body, never wanting to let go. Her eyes were closed, hiding their wonderful mint green colour.

"You guys getting some tongue in there too?"

That killed the mood quickly. I stopped the kiss and looked up, glaring at the culprit. Naturally, Matt was grinning hugely behind Derek. I didn't notice him arrive, mostly because I was too busy with mouth stuff.

"Nice to see you too, Matt," Rachel said, in a tone that hinted the complete opposite. She endured being with my friends, just like I endured being with her friends. That didn't mean she had to enjoy every moment of it.

"Yeah, you're thrilled," he said, turning his focus at me. "You guys done? I'd like to get out of the school and enjoy my vacation as soon as possible."

I rolled my eyes and started down the hall. Most of the kids were long gone, rushed out of the school to get home. My hand was around Rachel's hip, and hers around mine. We'd been dating for a few months, after I gained enough courage to ask her out. Derek was actually the one who pointed her out years back, and now she was the most important thing to me in the world.

A blast of cool air hit us as we walked outside into the Texan sun. It was always like this. Me, Rachel, Derek, Matt and Reggie walking home together after school. It wasn't that great of a thing we had, but it was the closest thing I had to a true group of friends.

Maybe if I had known it would be the last time we did this, I would have enjoyed it a lot more.

3: Something's Not Quite Right...

Reggie peeled off the group first. He lived closest to the school. Telling us he had to get ready for the party, he headed home. I tried not to feel jealous that he was going out tonight while Derek and I were staying in.

When it came to Rachel's street, we stopped and kissed one last time.

"Couldn't we spend just a little more time together?" I pleaded, letting her hand go.

She smiled slightly. "I'd love to, but my little sis is sick. I have to take care of her until my parents come home."

"Oh, she'll be fine."

Right then, Rachel coughed. It was light and feeble. Nothing serious, like the coughs I'd heard from those sick with the flu. Still, it had me worried. Rachel saw my concerned look and smiled.

"It's nothing, Sean. I doubt I caught anything from my sister," she said, putting my fears at rest a little. "Now, I'm sorry, but I really have to get back home."

"Do you have to?"

"Sean, we have all of next week to spend time together. I'll see you then."

"Okay," I agreed, sulking a bit. "Just remember to call Derek's house. My cell sucks, remember?"

"All too well," she said and walked down her street alone. I watched her go for a few seconds, until someone mumbled from behind me.

"That's a mighty fine ass she's got."

Anger surged through me and I spun around. Derek and Matt burst out laughing at my reaction.

"Who said that?" I demanded.

"That sure got your attention," Matt said. "We should do that more often."

I frowned. Leave it to Matt to think of the most creative ways of getting me out of fantasy land. My anger subsided somewhat when I punched Matt in the shoulder. He protested, but I ignored it. We continued on the road, stopping for another time.

"'Kay, I gotta bounce, guys," Matt said. "My dad's been sick from this crap for the past few days. Can't get out of his bed, so I got to take care of him."

"Why doesn't he just go to the hospital?" Derek asked.

"He doesn't like hospitals," Matt frowned, hands on his hips. "Says it's all a conspiracy to get you sicker."

"Your dad's insane," I stated.

Matt shrugged. "Maybe, but I still love him. See you guys later. We'll chill soon, right?"

"You know it," I agreed, and he walked towards his house.

Matt was like a lot of people I knew. His dad was a single parent, having to raise Matt by himself. Matt never talked about what happened to his mom, and I never bothered to ask him. I don't like prying into people's lives unnecessarily. There were reasons why they didn't share that information.

Derek was another one of those kids being raised by a single parent. I knew the reason why though. His dad was killed in a car crash a year ago. They said he died instantly. I didn't think knowing that made dealing with the death any easier. Derek seemed to deal with it well at first, but nowadays he had a much shorter fuse. He's snap at anybody for the slightest reason sometimes, and others he'd remain cool. It really depended on his mood if you'd get lucky and avoid his bad side.

We crossed through an intersection, walking diagonally across the road. No cars were driving, instead parked in driveways and on the road. I checked all four streets quickly. Derek and I were the only ones on the road.

Strange. People usually filled this street. Whether they drove or walked, you could always see someone else, even if it was a small town. When I thought about it, many kids were missing from school.

The lack of people didn't bother me all that much. A few of my friends were out of town, getting an early start on March Break. Jessica and Jeremy, or 'the twins' as we called them, were in Oklahoma. I only knew Jessica because she was one of Rachel's friends. Jeremy I didn't talk to all that much, but he seemed like a cool enough guy.

From what I heard, they planned to visit the impact cities. It bothered me when I first heard it, and it bothered me still.

"Do you think it's messed up that people visit the impact cities?" I blurted out. Derek looked at me funny. That question had come out of nowhere, but thinking about what the twins were up to sparked the idea in my mind.

Ever since I heard that the impact cities were tourist sites, I felt like it was a personal taunt. The meteor six years ago had a large kill zone, destroying much in that area. The impact cities were the places in that area that managed to survive total annihilation. They were like Pompeii in a way. The cities were heavily damaged, with most buildings beyond repair and the streets coated with ash. People who were trapped in the streets had become encased in hot ash, which preserved their bodies in stone.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"Thousands died in those cities. It's like a massive graveyard. I just don't think it's right for them to be on display like an exhibit at a museum. I wouldn't want that to happen to me if I died like that."

"Yeah, it's a bit messed. But what are you gonna do, right?" Derek said. "It's not like we can rebuild those cities. Even if they did, who'd wanna live there, right? They're practically rubble. And, as you said, it's a massive graveyard. Tearing down those buildings would be a tad bit disrespectful to the dead. Might as well gain some tourism to those parts, pay the dead some respect, right?" Derek glanced at me. "Man, I don't even get why you care. It's not like you were in them."

"Still, it's just... not right, you know?"

I didn't voice the fact that I did have a reason to care. My family had almost died in that blast. I had almost died. It was blind luck that I managed to duck the flames and save my brother. I still had the scar on my left arm from the surgery it took to fix the broken bone.

I never told Derek I was in the impact zone. I didn't tell anybody, and as far as I knew, neither did Zach. We didn't want any sympathy from everyone. Didn't want people to feel sorry for us.

We just wanted to be treated normally. To be normal kids again.

I guess that kind of worked out. I got bullied all the same.

"Speaking of visiting places," Derek said. "Has you family left for Toronto yet?"

"Yeah, they left in the morning," I said. "Gone for a whole week."

"Why didn't they take you?"

"We had enough money for all, but the airline changed prices on us. We could only afford to take three. So they left me behind."

"So that's how you ended up living at my house for the next week?"

"You don't have to sound so bitter about it. I don't like it either. They can't trust me alone in the house for a week. They think I'll burn it down."

"Sucks, man," Derek said, digging his hands into his pockets. He looked around briefly, confused. "Where are we going anyways?"

I stopped and thought. Where were we going? It occurred to me that we were simply following the same path we always took without realizing it.

"I think we're going to my house," I answered.

"I'm down," Derek said with a light shrug.

Of course he was down. He was always down to go to my house. It was five minutes away, stocked with unhealthy foods and drinks and, best of all, there were no adults. We could do anything we wanted, something his overprotective mother never let him do.

We picked up our pace, wanting to finish the walk as fast as possible.

---

A five minute walk didn't stop Croner from finding us. They appeared a block from my house and had us surrounded before we could react.

Croner stepped out from the group, grinning like an ugly idiot, which he was. "Heh, if it ain't Sean Campbell and Derek Johnson. Great luck that me and my boys ran into y'all. We was just wandering the streets, and presto! Here ya were. Who woulda thunk it?"

Everyone in that circle knew damn well why they were on this street. Derek and I always walked this route, but this was the first time that we'd ever been ambushed before.

"What do you want, Croner?" I sighed. I had a good hunch of what it was that he wanted. I just hoped that he had something different in mind. I don't know, maybe a cake or something like that.

"You know what I want," he said, stepping uncomfortably close to me. His tobacco tainted breath nearly made me gag. "I wanna lil' payback for makin' me look stupid back at the school."

I kept my mouth shut. I only wished that Derek would do the same.

"It isn't that hard to make you look stupid. You do most of the work for us," he insulted.

Croner didn't like being talked to like that. He rounded on my friend, pushing his face into Derek's.

"Did you just call me stupid?" he demanded, daring Derek to say it again.

Derek didn't back down. Looked him dead in the eyes. "Did I stutter?"

Croner's face turned red, his eyes bulged. "You stupid, filthy nig-," he began, but Derek cut him off. I saw Derek's hands curling into fists and I knew something big was going to happen. Derek never tolerated the 'N' word. If Croner said it, the bully was in some serious trouble.

"Don't you dare say that word!" Derek snarled.

"You dun get to tell me what to do!" Croner spat angrily. "I'll say whateva' I wanna say. Ain't no one gonna tell me I can't, especially no filthy ni-,"

Croner never finished that sentence. The bully was mid-word when Derek punched him hard in the gut. Croner wheezed and doubled over in pain, but Derek wasn't done yet. He punched the bully once more in the nose and Croner collapsed.

It took a few seconds for Croner's idiot friends to process what happened. By the time they did, Derek and I had already sprinted full speed back to my house, laughing wildly.

"Oh, man, we're so going to pay for that later," I said, feeling around my pocket for my key.

"Nah, I'm the one who threw the punch," Derek laughed. "He'll hate me more than you."

"You think he cares? This is just another excuse for him to wail on us. First chance he gets, we're getting beat."

"Totally worth it," Derek sighed, leaning against the wall. "I've wanted to do that for years."

"Same." I twisted the keey, opening the door. I entered first, careful not to push the door too far open or it would hit the ugly cabinet along the wall. Why it was there baffled me. The piece of furniture was far from helpful.

I tossed my keys onto the dresser and noticed Derek lingering outside. When he came in, he was looking down at the roll of paper he held.

"What do you got there?" I asked, trying to position myself for a better look.

"Huh?" Derek looked up. "Oh, nothing. Just today's paper."

"Then throw it out."

"You aren't going to check it?"

I shrugged. "Fine. Pass it."

I took the paper and read the headline on the front page. Nothing really hit me as important. The headline news today was the annual pie eating contest coming up in a few days. A cow went missing about a mile north. There were warnings to use caution when approaching it because it was known to charge at strangers.

Just everyday news for this town.

"This is why I don't read the paper here," I mumbled, crumpling the paper in my hand. "All they tell us is random, unimportant garbage."

"Look at the other headlines," Derek told me. I rolled my eyes, not really expecting to find anything. I reopened the paper and scanned through the headlines. An article nestled in the bottom corner had a particularly interesting topic.

"Bodies missing from city morgue," I read the headline out loud. I glanced at Derek. "Is this what you wanted me to see?"

"Yeah, man," he nodded. "Weird stuff like that's been popping up in the papers recently. You never read them, though, so you wouldn't know."

"Well, it's not that big of a deal," I said, opening the door leading to the garage. I tossed the paper into the recycling. "I bet it was just some sicko trying to get some."

"Trying to get some what?" Derek asked. I wiggled my eyebrows up and down in response. He got the message. "Ugh! Sick! What's wrong with you?"

"What's wrong with pointing out the possibilities?"

"You thought of that possibility. That's what's wrong."

"Whatever," I chuckled. Letting out a long breath, I leaned on the wall. "Well, we got a few hours to kill until your mom gets home. What do you want to do?"

Derek thought for about a second before answering with a large grin. "Video games?"

---

We killed the time by killing AI soldiers on Xbox in my basement. It was cool and comfy down there. Prime area for chilling.

The clock surprised me when I finally checked it.

"Holy crap, it's been three hours!" I exclaimed. Time really flew when you didn't pay attention. Not wanting to be responsible for a high energy bill, we scrambled to make sure everything we used was turned off.

We left through the garage, something I did to avoid locking the door. Yes, I am that lazy.

The sun had already started its slow descent to the horizon, but it wouldn't set for a few hours. The town was mostly quiet, the odd bird chirping musically. It was another beautiful spring day. Not much to worry about.

Except if the door was locked.

Swearing, I ran back up the driveway. I always did this. My memory sucked, and I'd always have to run back home to check to see if I truly had locked my door. everyone had their little OCD moments. I guess this was mine.

I ran up the porch to check that the door was truly locked. It didn't budge. I let out a little sigh of relief. Sure, it was an annoying habit, but it's better safe than sorry, right?

I had barely left the porch when a pained shriek broke the silent evening. Freezing, I locked eyes with Derek. He also had the same mix of shock, fear and a little curiosity in his eyes.

"What the hell was that?" he asked, his voice unnaturally high. At least his voice worked. All I could manage was a shrug. The unknown person shrieked again, louder this time.

And filled with more pain.

"Let's find out," I said, regaining my voice. I broke into a sprint, Derek following close behind.

What provoked me into running towards cries of pain? I have no idea. I wasn't exactly the type who usually rushed towards danger. If anything, I would run in the opposite direction.

This time was different, though. It was almost like I was being drawn to the shrieks.

We turned the corner and stopped in our tracks. Out of all the things that I thought we'd see, this was close to the bottom.

Two people thrashed about in the street. One was a burly teen. The other I recognized as the senile man in the rundown house. The former was desperately trying to escape from the latter's grasp.

The teen kicked out, sending his attacker flying onto the pavement. He looked up, noticing us. I recognized his face instantly.

"Guys!" Croner cried out. "Please, help me!"

I took a step forward, but hesitated. This kid had been bullying me for years. Mere hours ago he was prepared to beat me and my best friend up. Now he was begging for us to help him. Did he deserve our help, after what he put us through?

As I thought it over, Croner continued to beg for help. We were both distracted and briefly forgot about the psychopath.

The man pounced on Croner, rearing his head back. His jaws opened wide and his head thrust forward quickly. Croner screamed in pain as the old man bit into his shoulder. He didn't stop there.

Derek and I watched in horror as the man tugged and tore off a chunk of the bully's flesh.

And then swallowed it.

4: Wrong Place, Wrong Time

5: Hospital of Horrors

Not really thinking, I slammed the door. At least, I tried to. The door swung outwards into the hallway. Croner was close and it smashed into his face. The door rebounded back and I was shoved out of the way. The nurse in our room rolled a spare bed over. She locked the wheels so it wouldn't move, barricading the door.

Croner smashed his face against the window, cracking the safety glass. Blood and bits of meat smeared across the surface. He continued banging on the glass with his head and fists, oblivious to the damage being inflicted to his already hideous face.

Ten seconds passed, but Croner made no more progress on the glass. Whatever craziness that had enveloped his mind determined it to be a lost cause and he sauntered off, leaving the three of us in a shocked silence.

No one in our room talked, making the breath I let out seem all the louder. I hadn't realized I was holding it in. The nurse was breathing heavily, practically gasping for air.

"Sean?"

The sudden voice scared the hell out of me. I turned to see Derek staring at me with red-rimmed eyes.

"Wh-when did you get here?" he asked.

I blinked, confused. He didn't notice me come in? He didn't hear the commotion? Did he really miss what just happened?

Derek switched his gaze to the nurse. She looked pale, almost as white as the bed sheets that covered Lotanna Johnson. He followed her gaze to the barricaded door. The damage to the window was obvious.

"What's going on?" he croaked.

"Ummm..." my voice came out really high. I didn't know how to explain it to him. How could I put a non-terrifying spin on this? I couldn't just say 'Oh, not much. Just people going crazy and eating each other. You know, the usual.'

In the end, I didn't have to explain. Derek stood up and looked out the window. He lasted maybe a second before doubling over and puking. When he finished, he wobbled on his feet and fainted. I caught him as he collapsed and settled him into a chair.

I turned back to the nurse who was staring at me with a frightened expression. I probably shared the same look. The screams from outside the room were really loud and unnerving.

"So... um... how do you guys know each other?" the nurse asked awkwardly, trying to drown out the screams.

"Uh... we're friends. Really good friends, I guess," I responded, scratching the back of my head.

"You must be. Most would run away from this... whatever this is," she smiled weakly, and I returned the gesture. "I'm Carol, by the way." She stuck out her hand.

I shook it. "I'm Sean," I pointed back to my unconscious friend, "and that's Derek."

She nodded silently and sat on the edge of Mrs Johnson's bed. And that concluded our awkward conversation.

Thoughts raced through my mind. Most of them were morbid. What would happen to us? Would we get out of this alive? Would my brother be okay? Would I ever see Rachel again?

So many questions needed answering, but there was no one around to answer them. Well, maybe one could.

I looked up at Carol. "So, do you know what's going on...?"

"No. No, I don't," she muttered, gaze locked to the floor.

"You sure?" I asked, my voice high again. "There isn't a disease that makes people go crazy and want to eat others? You know, something like that? Because it would be really great if you knew what was happening!"

"No, I don't!" she repeated more forcefully. She looked up, her eyes filled with tears. Her voice came out choked. "This... this came out of nowhere. We were only dealing with a surge of flu cases, but that's it. Nobody had a case of Eatingyourface-itis. Nothing like this..."

I bit my lip and ran my hands through my hair. The window beckoned me. I don't know why. I sure as hell didn't want to, but I had to get another look outside. Summoning a few scraps of courage, I approached the window. My stomach clenched instantly.

The hall was a disaster. Blood splattered across the walls, floor and ceiling. Limbs with most of the flesh missing were strewn along the floor. The body of the woman still held open the doors to the waiting room. I couldn't really describe it as a body anymore. Much of the flesh was gone, making it appear to be more of a red mound.

I couldn't make out all the details, but the waiting room had gone from a pale yellow to mostly red. Pink spotted everything in there. A few people were still running around, trying to avoid the crazies. Many were crouched over in groups. I couldn't see what they were doing, nor did I want to know.

I swallowed the bile that rose in my throat. I had to stop looking. The gore was too much to handle. As I turned away, a glimpse of movement caught my eye. My gaze drifted back outside.

The woman by the waiting room was stirring. It shouldn't have been possible, but she was moving. Very slowly, she got to her hands and knees, then onto her feet. Her whole front was ripped open, giving me a very unwanted glimpse of the human anatomy. She walked away on mangled legs, some of her remaining guts spilling out behind her.

Acid burned my throat and I turned away quickly. If I hadn't thrown up earlier I would have done so now. My breath came in sharp gasps. Carol stared at me wide-eyed.

"What did you see?" she asked quietly. I hoped my look of terror was able to communicate well enough. My voice wouldn't work. "Do I want to know?"

I shook my head violently. In the corner, Derek moved slightly. His eyes fluttered open.

"Wh-what's goin... why are they..." he shut his mouth and took a shaky breath. "What the hell is going on?" he finally said.

"We don't know," I said weakly. "It's just... people are... I-I don't know..."

The room fell silent again, just enough that I picked up a new sound. The sound of raspy breathing, like someone gasping for air. My eyes slowly drifted to the impossible source of this noise.

Mrs. Johnson's chest rose and fell with each breath. Carol watched in morbid fascination as the previously dead woman respired. Derek stood up on shaky legs and approached the bed.

"Mom?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper. Tears collected on the edge of his eyes. "M-mom?" He shook his mother's body as if to wake her. "Is... she's alive, right?"

Carol's training took over and she put a finger on Mrs. Johnson's wrist. Her hand adjusted positions, her grim look changing to a disturbed one. I knew what she was feeling, or the lack of. The heart monitor was still flat-lining.

"Well?" Derek pleaded. Tears streamed down his face. "Is she going to be alright?"

"I don't... I don't know how this is possible," Carol began, shaking her head lightly, "but, she's still dead."

My jaw dropped. Derek's reaction of surprise was even greater than mine.

"Whuh... b-b-but she's... she's breathing!" he sputtered. "Look! She's breathing! That means she's alive... right?"

"Yes, Derek, she is breathing... but there isn't a pulse," Carol explained. Derek and I stared at her, not fully comprehending. "Her heart isn't beating. Blood isn't flowing through her body. So, while she's breathing, she's technically dead. I'm sorry. I... I just don't know how else to describe it."

I could almost see Derek's heart break. The last straw he clung onto, the one that would let him have his mother, was torn from his grasp. His mouth moved, but he couldn't form any words.

I don't think any words would have been enough to describe what he was going through.

Derek's chest heaved and he began to sob. He averted his eyes from his mother and buried his face in my shoulder. I gave him an awkward hug back, trying to comfort him.

I looked over at Carol, seeking some assistance. When it came to friends' parents dying, I didn't have much experience in comforting them. As I looked at the nurse, my heart mimicked Mrs. Johnson's and stopped.

Carol noticed my wide-eyed stare and turned away. "I'm sorry. I really am. But... there's nothing we could so. She's passed. I'm sorry."

I wasn't staring at her. My eyes were locked on the bed behind her. The one where the impossible was happening.

Mrs. Johnson sat up in bed, an action I thought dead people couldn't do. Apparently I was wrong. Something felt much more wrong though. Her eyes fluttered open and a chill passed through my entire body.

Her eyes were milky white. Unseeing. Dead eyes. She stared directly ahead, like she was seeing through everything.

Then her nose twitched and her whole body twisted in Carol's direction. I tried to say something to warn the nurse, but I couldn't speak. Carol was looking away from me, so I couldn't warn her without words.

She looked up at me and finally noticed the horror in my eyes.

Too late.

Mrs. Johnson thrust her head down, embedding her teeth into Carol's shoulder. The nurse shrieked in pain as her flesh was torn from her and devoured by the dead woman.

Startled by the sound, Derek spun around to witness the gruesome scene behind him. He instantly took a step back to be level with me. Carol clutched her shoulder, trying to hold back the gush of blood.

"Mom?" Derek whispered. Mrs. Johnson didn't seem to hear him. She swallowed the raw meat and lunged at Carol again. The poor nurse was too busy with the previous bite to defend herself as Mrs. Johnson latched onto her neck.

The two women tumbled off the bed, crashing to the floor. Carol tried to fend of Mrs. Johnson. It was no use though. She had lost too much blood already and her movements rapidly grew weaker. She begged for help. Begged us to save her.

But Derek and I did nothing. We couldn't do anything. We were rooted to the spot in terror.

As more blood poured from her neck, Carol's screams became disgusting gurgles as she choked on her own blood. Soon, the only sound in the room came from the ripping and tearing and chewing of Mrs. Johnson as she dug into the new corpse.

"We gotta get out of here," I said hoarsely. I blinked back tears as I grabbed Derek's arm. "Come on, man. We have to get out now!"

Derek stood still as a statue, not hearing my words.

Unfortunately, Mrs. Johnson did.

She looked up from her meal with blank eyes, as if just noticing us. Very slowly, she got to her feet and lumbered towards us.

The rest of my body unfroze then. I reached behind me, grabbing the rolling bed blocking the door and kicking the wheel to free the lock. With full movement of the bed, I swung it around and let go in Mrs. Johnson's direction. The bed slammed into her, knocking her over Carol's body and onto the floor. The bed hit the corpse and toppled over, pinning Mrs. Johnson beneath its frame.

Derek still hadn't moved. I reached out to grab him. Before I could, someone else grabbed me from behind. I spun around, narrowly avoiding a set of bloodied teeth.

I screamed and their owner grabbed me. My knees buckled under the combined weight and I crashed to the ground. His teeth gnashed together, spilling blood and spittle all over me. I had one hand around his neck, trying desperately to keep him from biting, but I was rapidly losing the struggle.

"Derek!" I shouted. My friend turned and stared blankly at me. "Help me, man!"

Derek didn't do anything. He stared with his puffy eyes and tear streaked face. My attacker pushed forward, bringing his face inches away from mine.

"For the love of God, do something! I don't want to die!"

My arm shook badly, just about ready to collapse. I simply wasn't strong enough to keep the man off me. I moved my head as far away from his gnashing teeth as possible, but I knew it would only be a matter of time.

"Derek!" I screamed one last time. That did the trick.

"Get off of him!" Derek roared. He booted the side of the man's head. My attacker was flipped off me and I jumped to my feet. The crazy guy lunged at me, his milky eyes uncaring. Derek stomped on his head to delay his attack so I could stand fully.

I finally got a good look at my attacker. I wasn't able to determine much since blood had obscured his face, but I guessed that he was a doctor from his white jacket and stethoscope around his neck.

"What the hell is with this guy?" Derek asked, backing towards the wall slowly as the doctor slowly got to his feet.

"Dunno," I replied. Well, I had an idea. He and the old man from before shared some very similar qualities. Like the need for human flesh.

I backed up and my arm bumped against something metal. An IV pole. I grabbed it and held it out in front of me like a spear, the tip pointing at the doctor's chest. "Leave us alone!" I yelled, trying to sound brave.

The man didn't respond. He lumbered towards us, blood and drool spilling from his open mouth. I repeated the command, but it failed to register and my courage began to falter.

My eyes flicked to the door. No one else was coming in, but Derek and I couldn't reach it. The crazy doctor blocked our path in front. The right side was out of the question because Mrs. Johnson was still pinned to the ground, and there wasn't enough space to go around on the left.

We were trapped.

My hands tightened around the IV pole. If this guy wasn't listening to us, then I had to make him listen.

"I said, leave us alone!" I cried and jabbed forward with the pole. I had aimed to strike the man in the chest and knock him back so Derek and I could escape. My impromptu weapon had different plans.

I hit my target, but instead of pushing him back away from us, the pole punched through his chest and buried itself deep inside his innards. Thick, black blood oozed from the wound, dripping down the pole to my hands.

The doctor seemed unfazed by his obviously lethal injury. He lashed out at me with his arms, still trying to get a hold of me.

I reacted out of pure instinct, pushing forward once again with my weapon. It caught on something hard inside of the doctor's body – probably his spine – and shoved our attacker back. While he was stumbling, I retreated to the wall with Derek.

"What the hell was that?" Derek breathed, his voice unnaturally high. His eyes were wide, watching the man slowly advance on us from the other side of the room.

"I don't know," I responded hoarsely. After all the horrors of the past hour, my brain had turned off its ability to rationalize. I would go crazy if I tried. My full attention was concentrated on maintaining the grip on the IV pole. Even that wasn't enough to keep my hands from trembling violently.

Derek turned to me. His fear turned to panic. "How is that possible? You just speared him in his god-damned heart!"

"I know what I did!" I said an equally shrill voice, looking at my friend.

"Then how is he still walking around?"

"How should I know?"

"I don't know! Think of something!"

"You seriously think I have an explanation for this?"

"Just give me any reason for..." Derek's gaze switched from me to just to my right. "Oh shit! Watch out!"

I whirled around just in time to see the doctor lunge at me. Cursing, I lurched away from his reach. My foot landed in something wet and I slipped, falling against the wall and cracking my head against the brick.

My attacker sprung forward, eager to sink his teeth in me while I was stunned. He missed the puddle of blood that I stepped in and lost his balance too. The man's hands were raised and chin pointing up as he collapsed, making one last effort to grab me. I lifted the IV pole in a feeble attempt to protect myself.

The tip of the metal shaft caught the man under the chin, piercing the soft flesh and stabbing deep into the doctor's skull. At once, the man's movements ceased and he went limp on the pole.

I let the pole go and the dead body dropped to the floor. A small pool of blood slowly grew around his head. My whole body trembled as I stared at the slain doctor.

"Holy..." Derek mumbled, staring at the body too. "What did you do?"

My mouth couldn't form the words. I knew exactly what I had done, but I couldn't say the words. It was too horrible to say out loud.

Someone screamed from within the hospital. Snapping out of my trance, I grabbed Derek and moved for the door. He was rooted to the spot, so I yanked on his arm.

"C'mon, man. Let's get outta here," I said. Derek regained his senses and, after taking one last look at the body and his pinned and still thrashing mother, started to move. We made it to the door and stopped.

The hallways outside were pulled straight out of a nightmare. Gore splattered every surface, severed limbs littered the floors and people in various states of injury either wandered aimlessly or feasted on piles of meat.

As soon as we stepped into view, those who weren't busy eating turned to look at us. That was enough to strike fear into anyone.

"I think they see us," Derek whispered into my ear.

I gave him a look of mock disbelief. "Really? What gave you that idea?"

The crowd started to shamble towards us, putting an end to our banter. My gaze whipped from side to side, searching for an escape route. I couldn't find one. All three halls had numerous people congesting them, with many of those heading our way.

A certain dead body caught my eye. It wasn't the person it used to be that attracted my attention, rather what it was laying on that did. An idea sprung to mind.

I pushed the dead person off the crash-cart and tested its mobility. The wheels rolled freely. Yes, it would do.

"You plan on electrocuting them?" Derek said. He hadn't budged from the doorway.

"Get over here and grab a handle," I told him quickly. I was already in position on one side of the cart. "We're gonna use this as a battering ram."

Derek looked skeptical, but still took the spot next to me. The people were too close for comfort. Every disgusting detail was frighteningly visible on their mangled and pale faces.

"Okay, on the count of three, we ram these bastards," I said. I was about to start the countdown when a hand latched on to my ankle. Turns out the dead body I pushed off the cart wasn't so dead after all. A strangled cry escaped my throat. "Ah, screw it! Go, go, go!"

Derek and I kicked off at the same time. We barreled down the hallway, knocking aside crazies with the cart. I almost lost my grip there were so many impacts. The exit sign loomed ahead.

We ploughed through the last few crazies and smashed into the door. That time I lost hold of the cart. We flew out the doors, but weren't greeted by the ground.

Right. I forgot about the stairs.

Derek and I went flying off the steps and crashed into the concrete below, coming to a rest on a patch of grass.

"Oh, man, that hurt," Derek groaned, wiping a pair of defibrillators off his chest. I was lying next to him, face down in the dirt, so all I could give was a muffled 'yeah' in response.

I lifted my head off the ground to take in our surroundings. We appeared to be alone behind the hospital. Then I looked at our exit and tensed.

"Derek," I said, slowly getting to my feet. "I think we should leave. Like, now."

My friend looked at me strangely, following my gaze to the door. He jumped to his feet, instantly alert. "Yeah. Where to, though? My house?"

"Anywhere's better than this."

Escaping the hospital didn't solve our problems. Our pursuers could still come after us. Through the gloom of the evening, I could already make out the pale figures shambling towards the exit.

Derek and I weren't planning on waiting around to see what happened. We turned tail and ran, heading towards the front of the hospital. However, we skidded to a stop as we turned the corner to the parking lot.

"O-kaaay, looks like your house isn't the greatest idea," I said, observing the parking lot.

It seemed that many people were actually able to get out of the hospital and tried to drive out. From all the car wrecks and bloodied bodies, both mobile and not, I guessed that it didn't work out so well for them. The parking lot was a bloodbath.

"So," Derek said. "Your house then?"

There wasn't a chance we were making it across to that side of town. Who knew how many of those crazies were waiting for us.

"My house it is."

With that, we started sprinting in the opposite direction. More people turned in our direction, letting out low moans. The very sound chilled me to the bone and I put on the jets, determined to get home and, hopefully, to safety.

6: Home Sweet Home

The hospital was soon out of sight, but the streets were far from empty. Cars had crashed into each other or various obstacles which spewed debris everywhere. Wreckage and houses burned, clogging the air above them with oily, black smoke. To top it off, bloodied figures wandered the asphalt, starting towards as we ran by.

Yeah, it was freaking terrifying.

I'd already been in something similar to this and it made me all the more desperate to leave it. This version was a lot scarier than the memories that visited me in my dreams.

After what felt like a marathon of running, we reached my house. The street didn't look different from the others we'd passed; wreckage and people were spread throughout its length. Fortunately, my house looked relatively untouched and Derek and I rushed up the steps.

Derek stood aside while I approached the front door, rummaging through my pockets for my key. I dug past my wallet and phone in both, but couldn't feel anything other than cloth. I froze as the sudden realization hit me.

"Oh no," Derek groaned. "You didn't..."

I looked at him with a pained expression. Leaving through the garage meant I didn't have to lock the door. And that meant that I didn't need my key. It was still lying on the counter inside the house.

Derek swore loudly and started banging his shoulder against the door.

"Are you really trying to break down the door?" I asked him, even though I knew his answer.

"Of course I am," he grunted as he hit the door again, "because you thought it would be a great idea to forget the keys to it."

Before I could reply, an ear-splitting scream split through the night. I turned to face the street. My jaw dropped and I froze. I tried to warn Derek, say something, but my mouth just wouldn't work.

The street in front of my house was full of shambling figures. It was hard to tell what they looked like. The only light came from the streetlights and various fires.

Their limping gaits and moans gave them away in the end. These people weren't normal. They were affected, like everyone at the hospital.

A single, horrible shriek pierced the cacophony of moaning. In the crowd, a lone person ran, dodging obstacles and slower people the same. He broke the front of the mob and into the clear, stopping to get a good look at us.

My blood ran cold when I realized who it was. Croner had come back for his revenge. He snarled and sprinted at us.

"Derek, hurry up on that door!" I urged him, finding my voice at last. I backed up from the porch steps. Croner was clearing the space between us quickly. Even in the faint light of the streetlamps I could make out my old bully's face. All the blood and gore stuck to it really made him look so much more menacing.

"I'm trying, I'm trying, but it just won't budge!" Derek yelled in panic, each word punctuated with a slam against the door. Croner was running up the driveway when I heard the wood start to split. "I almost got it!" Derek exclaimed as he backed up for the last hit.

But Croner was too close. He would be on the porch in a moment.

My brain made the split-second decision. Grabbing onto the posts that held the porch roof, I swung my legs forward, adding to the force of the two legged kick that I unleashed on the bully now at the base of the stairs. My feet connected with his chest and he went flying. Of course, that meant I went flying too, and I landed hard on the path.

"I got it!" Derek exclaimed, and then he proceeded to yell at me, "Sean, hurry up and get inside!"

He didn't need to tell me twice. The mob was already on the front lawn and Croner was starting to get up. I was hardly standing upright when I dove through the open door. Derek slammed it shut. He looked grim as he pulled me up.

"That was too close," he said. Suddenly, the door crashed open again. Croner was back, and he let off another horrible shriek.

"No you don't!" I yelled and punched him in the nose, knocking him out the door again. "Derek, keep the door shut!"

"Like that didn't occur to me!" Derek snapped. He pushed his back against the broken door to hold back the mob of people ramming on the other side, while I ran to the giant wooden closet next to him.

I braced myself against the wooden frame and pushed. My muscles strained and there was movement!

Only it was in the opposite direction. I only succeeded in pushing myself along the floor, not the wardrobe. I tried with all my might to shift the massive closet, but it just wouldn't slide. It was too heavy for me to do by myself.

My friend was struggling against the door and it was clear that neither he nor the door would last much longer. With an immense burst of strength, I pushed the closet from the top, sending it toppling downwards. Luckily for Derek, he saw it coming and jumped out of the way at the last second to avoid becoming a pancake.

We stood there, watching the door and listening to the crowd outside. They banged on the front wall, moaning sadly for their meals inside.

"Well, that was exciting," I said with a small smile. Derek looked at me like I was insane before chuckling lowly.

"Yeah, that about sums it up," he said, returning to the door with a more serious expression. "Something tells me they're not going away anytime soon."

I listened to the sounds outside and my despair grew. Somehow, they seemed to be getting louder and more erratic.

"You're right," I sighed. "They're not stopping until they get in. We'll have to block the doors."

"With what, exactly?" Derek made a sweeping gesture. "We don't have any supplies to do that. It's not like many people stock up on wooden planks and nails. We have nothing to work with."

I looked at the ugly wooden cabinet. It hadn't had much of a purpose before, but now it served as a decent makeshift barricade.

"We got a crap-load of furniture." I said.

Derek raised an eyebrow and checked around him. He just shrugged in a way that said 'Why not?'

---

The next few hours passed in a blur of frantic rearrangement of the house. The washing machine and the dryer were used to block the side entrance, while a sofa secured the glass door at the back. Not much could be done for the windows, so we just ended up piling whatever we could lift against them in hopes that it would be enough.

Bodies aching, we headed to the kitchen for a bite to eat. Sure, the memories of what we'd seen would make anyone hurl, but after running on empty stomachs for hours we were starved.

We snacked on a mismatched meal of leftovers and sweets, eating straight out of the fridge. I leaned against the counter once I filled myself, slowly sliding down to the floor.

"A full stomach always makes you feel better, right?" I said, patting my belly. I didn't get a response from Derek.

When I looked him, all I could see was his afro. He had retreated into a fetal position against the cupboards, his hands wrapped around his knees and face buried in his lap.

"Derek," I said softly, trying to gain my friend's attention. "You alright, man?"

Derek lifted his head from his knees to look at me. His face was streaked with tears. "Am I alright?" he repeated. His voice was choked. "A few hours ago, I punched my bully in the face and thought the worst that could happen was getting beat up later. But since then, I've helped that kid from getting eaten by a crazy guy, sat by while my mom died only for her to come back and kill someone, watch my best friend stab a doctor in the face with an IV pole and get chased by a mob in the middle of the night. I'm alive, Sean, but I'm far from alright. I don't think I'll ever be alright again."

Derek didn't say anything after that. He drifted off into his mind, gazing ahead into empty space.

I stared at the floor and thought about what he said. Was I alright? Physically, yes. Maybe tired out from fighting and adrenaline, but I wasn't injured.

Mentally, however? Not by a long shot.

The night had been filled with countless horrors. Things that'd been seen that couldn't be unseen, done that could never be undone. I don't think I would ever be able to forget feeling the doctor's skull break, or after that when the IV pole mashed his brains. Memories like that stuck around for awhile.

The pounding at the door subsided slightly. Maybe Croner had finally gotten tired of hitting and left. I wasn't exactly too keen on going outside to check, though. The moans from the other people outside could still be heard, and that was all I needed as a reminder that we were far from alone.

I had a good idea of what would happen should they break in. And it wasn't good for Derek and me. It involved lots of teeth and pain.

Even if they stayed outside, we'd still be screwed. The front wasn't an option, but the moans were starting to filter in from the sides of the house. It was only a matter of time before they had the whole house surrounded. Then Derek and I were trapped, and with a very limited amount of food.

Needless to say, whatever happened next wasn't going to be pretty. We'd need some seriously good luck to get out of the house in one piece and past the crazed mob.

I tried not to think anymore about the situation. It was going to drive me insane. I let my mind go blank and shut out the ideas forming.

I didn't remember how much time had passed since I had sat down. When I finally stood up, my back was stiff and my limbs ached.

"We should probably get some sleep, Derek," I told him, extending a hand to help him up.

"You seriously think either of us is sleeping tonight?"

Despite his pessimism, he accepted my hand and I helped him to his feet. He climbed the stairs alone while I made sure all the lights were out. Maybe it was pointless to worry about energy bills now, but it was something I always did before bed. It was comforting to do something normal.

When I finally got to the top floor, I found Derek waiting at the top of the steps for me.

"Uh... which room do I take?" he asked awkwardly as soon as he saw me. Guess I never thought of that. I told him he could take my brother's room, the one next to mine.

My brain went into default mode as I entered my room. I stripped off my bloodied clothes and tossed them into the corner, putting on fresh pajamas and slipping into bed. Once again, not much need for clean clothes or sheets, but it was a habit.

As I settled into the dark, I heard a new sound. It wasn't the moans of the mob outside, or the roar of the fires.

It was sobbing. Deep and full of despair. It drifted through the wall from my brother's room.

I rolled on my side and tried to ignore my friend. I wasn't trying to be mean or anything. I just had my own problems to deal with, and Derek's crying was bringing back my own fears.

Not for the first time did I wonder what happened to everyone else. Were Reggie and the other partiers okay? What about Matt, all alone in his house with only his sick dad for company? Was Zach experiencing the same horrors in Toronto?

My biggest worry was about Rachel. What happened to her? I wanted desperately for her to be safe, but I still had doubts in the back of my mind.

There was nothing I could do. I would have to wait until morning and make a plan with Derek. Until then, it was best that I tried to get some sleep. However, I doubted the moaning crowd was going to let that happen.

It was going to be a long night.