The city was eerily quiet, a stark contrast to the bustling metropolis it had once been. Alex Carter navigated the deserted streets, his senses on high alert. The sun was setting, casting long shadows that danced ominously across the crumbling buildings. He tightened his grip on the baseball bat in his hand, the only weapon he had managed to find in the chaos that had erupted just days before.
Alex had always been an ordinary man, living an ordinary life. He worked a nine-to-five job at a local bookstore, had a small apartment in the heart of the city, and spent his weekends watching movies or hanging out with friends. He was content with his routine, finding comfort in the predictability of his days. But all of that had changed when the first reports of the outbreak started coming in.
At first, it was just a few isolated incidents, strange attacks that left the victims in a state of mindless aggression. The news channels reported on the bizarre occurrences with a mix of curiosity and concern, but no one could have predicted the scale of the disaster that was about to unfold. It didn't take long for the virus to spread, turning the city into a nightmare.
Alex had been at work when the first wave hit. The bookstore had been relatively quiet that day, with only a few customers browsing the shelves. The sudden sound of sirens and the distant screams had sent a chill down his spine. He had rushed to the window, his heart pounding as he watched people running in panic.
The news on the radio confirmed his worst fears. The virus was spreading rapidly, and there was no known cure. The government had declared a state of emergency, urging people to stay indoors and avoid contact with the infected. Alex had quickly closed the store and made his way back to his apartment, his mind racing with thoughts of survival.
--
In the days that followed, Alex had barricaded himself inside his apartment, hoping that the chaos would pass. He had gathered whatever supplies he could find, rationing his food and water carefully. The sounds of the city had changed, the once-familiar hum replaced by the distant moans of the undead and the occasional scream of a survivor.
Alex had spent his days watching the news, trying to stay informed about the situation. But as the days turned into weeks, the broadcasts became less frequent, and the reality of the situation began to sink in. There was no going back to normal. The city was lost, and survival was the only option.
Determined to find a way out, Alex had ventured out of his apartment, his baseball bat in hand. He had moved cautiously, avoiding the undead and searching for supplies. It was during one of these excursions that he had encountered a group of survivors who had taken refuge in an abandoned warehouse.
The group had welcomed him at first, grateful for the extra pair of hands. Alex had done his best to contribute, helping to fortify the shelter and scavenge for supplies. But as time went on, tensions began to rise. Resources were scarce, and the group started to see Alex as a burden rather than an asset.
Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.
---
One evening, as the group gathered around a small fire, the leader, a stern man named Marcus, stood up and addressed the group. "We've got to make some tough decisions," he said, his voice heavy with the weight of responsibility. "We can't afford to keep anyone who isn't pulling their weight."
Alex felt a knot form in his stomach as Marcus's gaze settled on him. "Alex, you've done your best, but we need people who can contribute more. I'm sorry, but you have to leave."
The words hit Alex like a punch to the gut. He had tried his best to help, but it hadn't been enough. With a heavy heart, he gathered his belongings and left the shelter, the cold night air biting at his skin. He felt a mix of anger and despair, but he knew he had no choice but to keep moving.
---
As he wandered the deserted streets, Alex's mind raced with thoughts of survival. He needed to find food and water if he was going to make it through the night. He moved cautiously, his eyes scanning the area for any signs of movement. The undead were slow, but they were relentless, and a single bite was enough to end it all.
He spotted a small convenience store in the distance, its windows shattered and the door hanging ajar. It was worth checking out. He approached slowly, listening for any sounds from within. The store was dark, the shelves mostly empty, but he managed to find a few cans of food and a bottle of water. He stuffed them into his backpack, his heart pounding in his chest.
Just as he was about to leave, he heard a noise from the back of the store. He froze, gripping his bat tightly. The sound of shuffling footsteps grew louder, and a figure emerged from the shadows. It was a woman, her clothes torn and bloodied, her eyes vacant and lifeless. She let out a low growl and lunged at him.
Alex swung the bat with all his might, the impact sending the woman crashing to the floor. He didn't wait to see if she would get back up. He turned and ran, his heart racing as he sprinted down the street. He needed to find a safe place to regroup and plan his next move.
---
As he ran, Alex's mind raced with thoughts of the glowing shard he had found in the rubble a few days earlier. It was unlike anything he had ever seen, its surface etched with unknown symbols that seemed to pulse with an inner light. He had tucked it away in his backpack, intending to study it further when he had the time. But now, with the city in ruins and the undead everywhere, he wondered if the shard held some hidden power that could help him survive.
He reached an abandoned building and slipped inside, barricading the door behind him. He pulled out the shard, its light casting an eerie glow in the dim room. "What secrets do you hold?" he muttered to himself, turning the shard over in his hands. He felt a strange connection to the artifact, as if it were calling to him, urging him to unlock its mysteries.
The sound of approaching footsteps pulled Alex from his reverie, and he quickly tucked the shard back into his backpack. He needed to stay focused if he was going to survive. With a deep breath, he prepared to face whatever challenges lay ahead.
---
Alex couldn't shake the feeling that he was being watched. The city was eerily quiet, the only sounds the distant moans of the undead and the occasional rustle of the wind. He moved cautiously, his senses on high alert.
He spotted a small grocery store in the distance, its windows boarded up but the door slightly broken .It was worth checking out. He approached slowly, listening for any sounds from within. The store was dark, the shelves mostly empty, but he managed to find a few cans of food and a bottle of water. He stuffed them into his backpack, his heart pounding in his chest.
Just as he was about to leave, he heard a noise from the back of the store. He froze, gripping his bat tightly. The sound of shuffling footsteps grew louder, and a group of zombies emerged from the shadows. Their eyes were vacant and lifeless, their movements slow but relentless.
Alex swung the bat with all his might, the impact sending one of the zombies crashing to the floor. But there were too many of them. He fought valiantly, but the undead overwhelmed him, their cold, clammy hands grabbing at him from all sides.
As he fell to the ground, the last thing he saw was the glowing shard in his backpack, its light casting an eerie glow in the dim room. The shard began to pulse with a golden light, emitting a strange noise that seemed to resonate through the air. Alex's vision blurred, and he felt a strange sense of peace wash over him as the darkness closed in.
---