“What’s going on D? KIAs not looking so KIA?” I did my best to keep a close eye on my surroundings.

“How'd you know that?” Curiosity hit him like a ton of bricks.

“It’s everywhere. Whatever ‘it’ is. In fact, I got a crowd on my ass right now, I’m trying to make it back to the city outskirts. Hopefully, they’ll get bored, ya know?”

“Fucking Christ.”

“My sentiments exactly.” I chuckled at his reaction, lightening the mood in my overly stressed mind.

“look don't let those things touch you they’re slow but once they have you that's it. Focus on finding shelter or someplace out of sight for the time being. The higher-ups are shuttling us around like skittish cattle. It's too hectic to come running home but I'll keep you posted as much as I can.” His warning was valuable but vague but I've watched enough movies to have an idea what to and not do.

“Copy. Oh and Delta? Stay on the move and regroup when ready, no rush. These are horror movie circumstances that we’re dealing with right now but I don't want to find out if I’m a character with plot armor.”

“Yeah me neither… but seeing your luck so far, I think it's pretty clear you have the plot armor.”

“Guess that means I'm the main character, which by extension, means you are too.” my voice took on a cocky tone.

“Not every main character gets plot armor Valkyrie one… sitrep at 23 hundred.”

“Wait you're gonna hang up right now and wait another damn minute you’re gonna make me wait two hours!?”

“All the more a reward to hear the cadence about your harrowing adventures.”

“Cheeky bastard.” I rolled my eyes.

“Oh and shay… about earlier…” My heart stopped for a second as he mentioned the earlier events making me nauseous.

“My battery is dying, Delta and if you want that sitrep I’m gonna need to save it until I can find an outlet, so we can talk later… I’m sorry Damien… Valkyrie one out.” I promptly hung up the phone looking at the battery clocking the remaining power at around eighty percent, a bold lie… one I hope I don't come to regret.

Maybe I reacted too rashly. What if I never hear from him again? Jeez, I’m a fucking idiot!

My jaw twitched annoyed that the conversation ended the way it did. Looking back on it I could have gone about it in a better way but I can boo hoo and bitch about it later. I was saving my stamina as much as I could walking around avoidable groups when I found where the people had gone… It was like a gathering in the town square. A buzzing and loud party of mass panic, tears, and fear.

I shot a look over my shoulder recognizing my worst fear… I was in a sandwich and if I lingered anymore… it was going to end badly for me.

These people were out in the open in deafening panic having a city meeting with microphones and speakers, a dinner bell for the damned. I shook my head and did the only logical thing I could… if I couldn’t go around, I’ll have to go through. I shoved my way through the scattered and disorganized crowd.

Echoes of where are you? Boo hoo, stop pushing, and why aren't the police doing anything, played on a loop cascading through the crowd like a fog of hysteria. While the mayor assured the crowd of their safety… if only he could see the ensuing danger just out of view. All the innocent survivors screaming their desperate pleas against the hell that they had no idea was about to break loose.

I was pushing through the crown only able to make it a few yards in before a blood-curdling scream rang out. It had finally started the first attack within the square but it wasn't from behind me like I was preparing for it was from my right flank. I looked on in horror as I watched through bumping shoulders and fear shifting weight. Blood… There was so much blood, I'm a military brat, not a soldier. I'm not accustomed to war, chaos, or blood other than my own. For the first time upon encountering these monsters, their threat level was realized. They were unyielding, sickening, and terrifying. I stood frozen in fear for a few seconds longer.

Everything was still… and then it wasn’t. Screams erupted and bodies began colliding within the city square as if the space itself became the innards of a pinball machine. Each short person and child instantly became trampled, even I was shoved and trampled, my long hair being yanked in an effort to place one more barrier between them and the horrors unfolding. The crowd that tailed me here finally showed up to throw the last shred of humility into chaos.

I mentally prayed for someone, anyone, to at least try to help me to my feet. But remembering what would happen if I lingered for too long made my body go into overdrive. I reached out for the first forward-moving thing I could grasp, which was a fairly built woman who had a firm grip on a child. Before I could even think of letting go, I was being punched in the face. Tears pricked the corners of my eyes and blurred my vision as pain radiated from my nose.

The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

I tried once more with my aimless hand grasping the pant leg of what looked like a college student as I yanked myself up to my feet. The action tripped the poor man, sending him tumbling over his own feet. I ran selfishly as he pleaded for help. I instinctively looked back unintentionally burning the scene of a group of zombies taking advantage of his helpless form into my brain. They tore chunks off his shoulders and neck tearing his trapped body apart. His teary fear-filled eyes pleaded for someone, anyone to stop the pain. I froze conscious of the man I so ruthlessly condemned to death in my stead. Bodies rammed against mine as I stood rooted in place in fear watching his body go limp and a pool of his own blood growing by the second as the vile creatures continued to pull him apart. It wasn’t until I was almost knocked back to the floor that I snapped out of it, the visceral fear screamed for me to face forward and to run and not to fall again.

“I’m sorry.”

I did the best I could to slip through the gaps of the people eventually making it to the front… and out running the slow and the gasping. Remorse taking a back seat to my self-preservation.

I just wanna live! I just want to survive. Why is this happening? this can't be happening I have to go! I have to run… escape the crowd and hide. My lungs… my lungs are screaming. It's been so long since I've run like this. Am I going to die?

The fear is what had propelled me forward for as long as it did the estimated hour until I made it to base ended up being an overestimate I was there in half the time.

Easing my way onto base proved easy, no one alive was anywhere to be found… sneaking into my house was slightly harder… and scouring my room for my compact bow and quiver… that... was the hardest part. Curiosity propelled me to search my dad’s room, checking the secret stash of Cuban cigars that nestled on top of a nine-millimeter handgun If my dad had come home the cigars would be gone before the gun… a truth that remained true as I took note of four missing cigars out of the wooden case…

I plucked the pistol and the accompanying holster, equipping them both to my person before heading downstairs for food and water that I could pack into my bag. Passing the living room unveiled the reason behind everyone’s absence… The base has been evacuated. I looked on the floor of the living room and discovered D’s wallet. The only thing missing from it was his military id. I pushed it into my pocket with my own wallet, it acted as a grounding beacon of comfort in the weirdest of ways.

I swiftly left the base understanding that if they evacuated it I needed to leave too. I didn't want to be caught in some type of clean-up crew sweep. The media glorified processes like these and I was not willing to take the risk of any zombie movie proving to be right at the wrong time.

I wandered on, out running hordes, hiding from humans, and checking my phone. When the time came I hid in the safest place I could find among the shooting, screaming, and all-around terror that consumed the streets as I knew them. Behind a dumpster pressed up into the corner, I sat curled up and called D holding my breath at every minor noise I heard beyond the dumpster.

The call rang out once, twice, and then three times. Coming to the assumption that he wouldn't be picking up, I silently cursed at myself for not hearing him out. I reached a hand up to start climbing out from behind the dumpster when my phone began buzzing. My phone lived on vibrate or silent so much so that when the sound is turned on I don't even recognize my personalized ringtones. So despite my phone's quiet nature I instantly halted and scrambled to answer it.

“Hello!”

“Shay you're alright they have us in-” The hollow tone of the dropped call blared in my ear and I damn near cried… Why was the world testing me? Despair sank heavily in my soul. Upon calling back my suspicions were realized… The call services were down. Meaning no calls in or out…

Oh joy

I was thrust back into solitude like a rotten tomato, at this point it was only fitting I was behind a dumpster.

But instead of discarding my phone, I tossed it into my back pocket. I would need it to test if service comes back as well as to track days and time until further notice.

I roamed for months on my own, occasionally learning tips and tricks of surviving this world from other survivors. Bouncing from group to group. Until finally I ended up with a group that had commandeered a small apartment complex that was snugly stationed on top of a pharmacy. The two establishments were completely separate but the proximity between the two proved helpful in some extreme cases.

The survivor group was rather large but as the months marched on the group became very unaccepting to new survivors due to too many breaches in trust brought about by strangers, and with this change, the group numbers started to dwindle. This number would continue to drop until there were only three people left, me, a survivor named Leeah, and her brother Marcos, it came to our attention that she and I once worked together giving us something to bond over during the fleeting time our group was still a trio.

For the lack of better words the group lost another member, and then another, then I was the last one left. Day in and day out I monitored, kept up the cleanliness, and restocked the established base for two years straight. I even kept a schedule to hold myself accountable. Everyday was planned down to the hour and I held to that schedule religiously. I dispatched threats, repaired horde damages, and acted as my own security guard every day. Anything to keep from going insane. Anything to stay alive… anything.

My survival was paramount, anyone worth risking my life for was dead or MIA so inevitably I've resorted to selfish acts and sneaking around unseen by both living and dead to stay off the radar. My short stature helped me blend into darkness effectively disappearing in plain sight whenever necessary.

But today, about two years and three months since the last member died, I was finally fed up. The everyday monotony of survival had ground my will to push on, damn near non-existent. My heart ached in ways I never thought it would.

I have been left to fend for myself since I was twelve years old, I should be used to solitude by now. Or at least you would figure, but no, even before this shit fest started there was always at least one person to talk to. To ground me. But here? right now? There was no such person. I took the time to write a suicide note that felt more like a will and an apology rolled into one if you really read it. But what could I say? I didn't have much drive to write a better one. No desire to put in that much effort on a paper I wouldn't live to edit.

Fatigue weighed down on me as I sat down on the isolated chair with the small square coffee table serving as the bearer of my letter, id, dad’s nine millimeters, and my phone in front of me. I pulled out D’s wallet and placed it among my things on the otherwise empty table. I had done all my chores scheduled for today and was ready to leave the compound strong and in better shape than when I first was introduced to it.

With sure and slow movements I checked the magazine ensuring it was loaded and ready. I brought the pistol I borrowed from Leeah up to my head, placing it against my temple. With a slow breath, I closed my eyes.

I’m sorry… I just can't do this… not anymore.

My grasp on the trigger slowly tightened when my body instinctively jolted, and my silent alarm blared signaling a forced entry on the first floor in the far right region. Rushing to respond to the unknown threat was an immediate reaction, my thoughts protested with my muscle memory as I traversed the ventilation system making my way floor by floor to the location of the threat. My mental map helped me traverse the tight crawl space with ease coming to watch a survivor who was both masked and hooded escape into the hallway locking the door of the zombie-filled room behind him.

I dropped silently into the room beside it through the vent stealthily closing the vent and climbing down the purposely placed objects. I began sneakily moving to confront the human threat. My brain protested against my actions every step of the way. That's when three straggling zombies cornered me with only the pistol in my hand. Not wanting to attract more danger, I silently retreated into the room across the hall slamming the door behind me. I cringed at my not-so-stealthy retreat into the room cursing at myself.

I finally folded to my brain's looping plea of just going back upstairs and ending the misery as planned, leaving the survivor to figure it out on his own but there was only one problem… The vent was out of reach and the only exit out of the room was contested by undead opposition adamant about getting in.