The sins of Men Return..... By Impslayer

[impslayer]

The sins of Men Return

By Impslayer

Chapter 1

How did I get here? What did I do to deserve this fate? I stare out at a vista worthy of a painting, the Blue Ridge Mountains. It is peaceful up here, clear skies, trees, and sounds of wildlife. I look below and see where I have come from, a scorched mountain town filled with hordes of the undead. I look at this gristly scene, and know that I am dying, slowly leaving this cruel world. While I contemplate my fate, I will recount how I got here.

Life for me was the rollercoaster that people call being a teenager. I was looking forward to college and a new life. I was planning to get an architecture degree, and maybe join the army, then settle down and start a family. I wanted to get far away from there, with each passing day I felt my sanity slowly edging away after years of social rejection. The doctor told me I had depression, but for years my parents refused to get me any medication.

Where do I begin? It was about 3:00 a.m. on a Thursday morning. I woke up to darkness, mulling over in my mind another day of loneliness and suffering at school that was about to ensue. I sleepily reached for the snooze button, but the beeping refused to stop. I then realized that the noise was not coming from my alarm clock. I got up and looked out the window to see that the noise was coming from a wreck up the street. A red sedan had collided with a tan SUV, and the beeping from the car alarms echoed down the empty streets. I threw on a pair of shoes and ran out to see if anyone was hurt. It was chilly and I would much rather have the sleep but hey, one of them might drop me a 20, and my stash was running low. When I got there I saw that the cars were mangled into twisted hunks of metal, and both parties were dead. The sedan had a man and his wife, the SUV housed a dead family of 5. I felt so bad that I puked, seeing them decapitated like that made me loose the fries I had last night. There was something odd about the guy driving the red sedan though, he seemed different.

I turned around to call 911 and saw a person walking toward me. He was wearing blue jeans, a T-shirt and sneakers. As he walked into the light, I saw that his face was torn off and he was missing half of his guts, his intestines were hanging out like sausages. I thought to myself, "Holy ~~~~, what was I smoking? I thought it was just...." with that, he threw himself on top of me and started clawing at my face and trying to bite me. Thankfully, I had some of my wits about me, and threw him off. All I had to defend myself was a wayward hunk of metal from the sedan. I shoved the broken fender through his chest, and he lurched back with pain but continued. I grabbed the fender, dislodged it, and began to savagely beat him on the head. In a few seconds chunks of brain were all that remained of his head. At this point I regained my senses, and realized the implications of this. "Oh ~~~~" I ran back into the house and tried to find my parents, but they were not there. The house was deserted, and I had no idea why. I called 911 and got a prerecorded message.

"We are unable to get to your current location, please wait indoors and follow the instructions on your television"

Confused, I switched on the living room TV and saw it. There were scenes of panic and death everywhere, and the news string was giving tips on "how to avoid the infected". Wherever I was toking was bad stuff, I guess.

"Citizens of the United States, we are facing a crisis. A disease of epidemic proportions has spread throughout the country, and we face death itself coming to get us."

I turned up the volume.

"I would like to ask the people of the United States to not panic, but remain calm, stay indoors, and do not come in contact with the infected. We are doing everything in our power to reverse the spread, but it requires complete cooperation from you. So please, do what you can to defend yourselves from them. Good luck, and may God help us all"

Is this actually happening? I packed up a knife, a change of clothes, a sleeping bag, some water bottles and canned food, and a few other things. I changed into a flannel shirt, T-shirt, jeans and work boots. I then went out to the shed to get my dad's BB gun. It was powerful enough to do the trick, I read in “the guide”. This I grabbed along with a machete and some BBs and pellets. I unhooked my bike and started down the deserted streets of my corner of suburbia. I was a surreal experience, riding for my life on an old bike down dark, empty streets. The orange street lights and collage of stars added to the experience. I turned back to see a group of shadowy figures approaching fast. It was too dark for me to determine their purpose, but I had a feeling that their purpose was other than good. I rode on toward the police station, either way it was the place to go. I rode off into the dark, and into a surreal and somewhat horrific adventure.

"I hope my family is OK".

To be continued...

[SilenzXE]

Not bad... could do with paragraphs though.

[OkeiDo]

Yes please refrain from walls of text. Will read it when fixed .

[impslayer]

Chapter 2

As I sped through a section of suburbia I used to call my home, I was awestruck by the rampant destruction that was ensuing. Many houses were on fire, and from them came screams that chilled to the bone. The street was littered with smashed cars and decapitated bodies. I was glad I did not take my car; there was no way I was going to drive through that mess. Now that I look back at it, I wonder why I did not help anyone. It sickens me to know that I lived where others died. Oh well, most of the country is probably dead at the time of this writing, and I could have done little to help them.

It was still dark, and those things were still chasing me. I expected to be able to outrun them easily, but this was not the case. They shambled toward me at an alarming pace, and I looked back to see one running toward me. I looked back to determine how far away I was from them, and I did not see the black pickup truck stopped in the middle of the road. I had no time to "dodge" it and turned around just in time for it to make contact with the front of my skull. They say that when you hit your head hard you see stars, but I think it looks more like TV static. I had suffered a few concussions before, but this time was different, as I was not able to move for a good minute and a half.

I was out on the ground with a splitting headache. I hoisted myself to my feet only to be knocked back to the ground. The runner was on top of me, and attempted to go for my neck. I will never forget it. It had a business suit on, and was missing its left arm. Its body was covered in slash marks and bite holes. Its face was disfigured and bile dripped from its mouth. Its eyes were as pale and empty as a tombstone. Its visage was so horrific that I nearly let it take a nice hunk out of my neck.

It had me pinned. I reached for my machete but I was lying on top of it. I managed to get my feet under it and kicked it backwards. I sent my 8” rambo knife through its eye socket, and that was the end of that. I got my bearings and saw that the rest of the group had caught up, and they had brought some friends. They were of all races and sizes, all shambling toward looking for a midnight snack. They had me surrounded on all sides, and I knew that I would have to fight it out. I took the one nearest and sent the machete through its skull, splitting it cleanly in half. I took up my BB gun and used it on the next one, which put the gun out of action for the moment. By this point it was clear that there was nothing I could do. They were about 6 feet away and 3 deep. Usually I wake up in 5...4...3...

As it hit 2 an electrical wire snapped from the pole and hit the ground. All I remember was feeling like I got hit by a sledgehammer in the chest, and then being thrown on my back. Then came the burning. I was on fire, and I battled desperately to put it out. By the time it was out my skin was charred to the bone in some places. My clothes were mostly burned out and it was excruciatingly painful to move. How ironic that I should suffer the same fate as my dad.

On the plus side, the zombies were all dead. The electric current caused their heads to explode. Chunks of brain were everywhere and their corpses were on fire. Good thing that I fell backwards or I would have suffered the same fate. That is when I looked down. The burns were black and red, and I saw some white of bone on my leg. My face hurt too, but I could not see what had happened to it. I whipped out my bowl and took a hit to deaden the pain a little. I limped off to my bike and continued on. It hurt; even slight motion caused intense pain. By this point I was running on pure distilled will to survive, and that was fading fast. Lethal amounts of electricity were a little better than getting eaten alive.

5 minutes later I made it to the hardware store! I took 2 ibuprofen to ease the pain and rode down the street. I was thinking I was safe, but nothing could prepare me for what was waiting beyond the back wall of the store.

To be continued...

[impslayer]

chapter 3

The hardware store was located in a shopping center, with an alleyway going up the middle. Across the street are the car dealerships, a grocery store, pharmacies, and auto repair, to name a few. These were separated from the shopping center by a road and a parking lot. Both were filled with the victims of the infected. The said orange lights cast a chilling glow on everything for miles, from the old plantation down to the slums. I used to love the night, but this put a frightening new perspective on everything.

The infected crowded around a group of survivors. They were holed up in a wreck of derelict cars. Gunshots barked from all sorts of guns, and occasionally there was a scream from a doomed survivor. I saw that they could help me, but there was nothing I could do. I limped toward the hardware store and looked in. It was dark with an occasional flickering light. There were enough supplies in there to last at least a week. I opened the door and looked inside. The store was empty for the most part, with one infected shambling toward me. I took my machete and drove it through its neck, slicing its head clean off. The first half of the store had many aisles and a back counter where ammo and knives were kept. The other half of the store had an all glass front, and was dedicated to the sale of larger items like wood stoves and lawnmowers. Both had glass fronts that seemed very breakable and in reality were. This place could work if only it was barricaded.

Keeping this in mind, I grabbed some boxes and started stacking. I just happened to look out the window, and saw them rushing toward me. Up until this point, I had luck avoiding the living dead, but my luck just ran out. The survivors made a break for it, bringing with them a mob of hungry zombies. I saw them running toward me and nearly panicked. I was provoked to action by seeing one that looked slightly like the runner I had encountered earlier. I opened up the door and ran out waving a flashlight. I hoped that they would not mistake me for one of those things, and it worked. We ran in and I bolted the door.

"Get those boxes up on that wall now!"

We scrambled to throw up the boxes. The infected had reached the front and were banging on the glass with arms and heads. Two of the men ran back to the front with 2x4s and electric drills. The others joined in, running scraps of wood and screws from the back to the front. In 5 minutes we had a frame, and just as we closed most of the holes and bolted it to the wall they broke through the glass. We ran to the side entrance to bolt it shut, but we ended up pushing a large metal storage cabinet to block the narrow entryway and we braced it with 2x4s. One of the survivors started giving orders to the others, and they all split up. I walked over to him and he jumped back.

"Holy ~~~~, what happened to you?"

I glared at him. For all I knew my eyeball might have been hanging out. "Don't ask".

"OK, let’s save the introduction. Let’s clear the store".

I hoisted up my BB gun. "Already done".

"Alright then, let’s settle in".

To be continued...

[impslayer]

Chapter 4

"Mark Richardson".

"Good to meet you. My name is Tom Goodman. This is my wife Shelly. When did you get here?"

"Right as you walked in. We should go and block up the back door."

"Will do."

I went over to the back of the store and jumped over the counter. One of the men walked over to me. I stood in the light, and he freaked out at the sight of me. It took him a second to convince himself that I was not infected, and then he approached me.

"Need a hand?"

"Sure. Keep your guard up, we have no idea what's back there."

We walked into the back room. It was a dark "U" shaped room with shelves on the wall and in the center. Fluorescent lights were visible, but I couldn't find the switch. The walls on one side were barred. I took a look into the bars to see a worthy prize. The wall was lined with pistols and a few rifles and shotguns.

"Jackpot! Hit the lights."

I found the switch and hit it. The wall and room were lit up and we saw the guns in their full glory. As if on cue, I felt something land on my back. Apparently the former manager of the store wanted to give some deals on how to die slowly and painfully. It was on my back, and all I could do to keep myself from getting bitten was to spin around in circles. The melted skin on my back was giving way, and I had nothing to do except scream as the melted flesh tore from my shoulders.

I fell backwards to the floor. I rolled over, trying to get it off me. I thought it had me. Just then a baseball bat came down on its head, bashing its skull. My back was covered in its brains and I felt blood on my scorched skin.

"Thanks, man." He helped me up.

"Bill Jackson. Anytime" I nearly fell back over from the pain. Once we found the keys to unlock the gun case I limped off to find some gauze.

Bill was the typical couch potato. He probably never did anything but watch football and do his job. He was also a pushover and did whatever Tom said, weather it made sense or not. Tom was one of those egotistical people; some would call them natural leaders, while others (like me) would call him a natural d~~~~~~~g. We found the door and moved a shelf in front of it to wedge the door. There was no way they were getting in now. With that in mind, we headed back to the front. We could put the weapons to good use. On the way back, we passed a sheet of aluminum. I took a second to take a look at myself. Not only was my body burned, but my face was half charred. I nearly jumped back, but restrained myself. I could not keep myself from groaning in pain, though. Whatever parts of me were not burned was soaked in blood. “~~~~, I need another hit” I thought.

I took a look at the gunk that covered me. “I hope I’m not infected” I thought. With the help of some antiseptic and a few people to hold me down, I managed to clean the places where the skin was ripped off. One of the men suggested cauterization, but I just gave him a nasty look and he dropped the idea. I’d had enough burning for one day. I used up nearly all the gauze and superglue in the entire store. Once that was all said and done, I went to the back of the store, loaded up the bowl with all that I had left, took a few good hits, and passed out on the floor. What a day.

To Be Continued…

[impslayer]

Chapter 5

I woke up with light shining through a tiny window above me. My head hurt so much that I couldn’t move. The only thing I could do was roll over to puke, and that only aggravated the pain that was all over me like a disease. I couldn’t just let sitting stomach acid lie. I hoisted myself to my feet and lumbered over to the janitorial closet. After cleaning up the mess, I reloaded the bucket, just in case someone else needed it.

I headed to the middle of the store. The first signs of morning light were coming through the cracks in the barricade. The banging on the boards had stopped. I peered out one of the larger cracks to see a large crowd of those things milling about in the parking lot. There were a lot fewer of them than earlier. “They probably went off looking for easier eats” I thought redundantly. Just then a mutilated hand shoved itself through the hole I was looking through. I lurched back before it could grab me. The hand retreated and was replaced by a pair of empty grey eyes that gazed hungrily into the store. A quick thrust with my knife prodded it backwards, and it retreated in disgust.

I looked at the crowd gathered around a wood stove, and they looked back at the mummy. I must have looked like one with all the gauze on my face. A hatch on the roof opened and a ladder was lowered into the store. A couple men tossed down bags and we quickly opened them up. The bags were filled with all kinds of food, from warmish hot dogs to canned soup and ramen. The chips had the familiar logo of the convenience store at the end of the strip mall. They must have gotten into the store through the roof. The three men on the roof took the ladder back up and headed out to strip the quick-e-mart of more of its precious food and water.

The guys really went to town with the food. A case or two of beer made its way around and managed to take the edge off very quickly. In my over-buzzed state I was not in the mood to drink anything, but the munchies set in quickly. I took a few frozen burgers and tossed them onto a large grill that was on display and lit it up. By the time I got a few burgers and ‘brats going there was a small line starting to form next to me at the grill. One by one we introduced ourselves and exchanged small talk, trying to avoid any conversation about our situation.

Once the line dissipated, I threw a bun on a cheeseburger and sat down to eat. My attention was soon drawn to an older man who was lying in the corner. He was bleeding profusely and was covered in bite marks. His skin had turned pale from the loss of blood, and there were two others bent over him to try and stop the bleeding. He leaned to one side, puked, and started babbling incoherent vulgarities. Judging by his behavior, he was bitten from six to eight hours ago. Unable to eat, I put down my burger and walked over to them.

"How's he doing?"

"Not good, get some of that gauze over here."

"It's not going to do him much good"

"What do you mean?"

"He's infected. In a few hours he'll be one of them."

"What?"

“He is going to die and there is nothing we can do about it."

"That’s ~~~~~~~~. We need to help him"

The groans were eerily audible from in the hardware store. Who knows how many more of them were attracted by the shouting. The noise from the argument and the infected sobered everyone up. We had all forgotten the grim reality of our predicament, and an eerie quiet hung over the group. Tom walked away angrily. He was used to getting his way, I suppose.

The old man's size and number of wounds as well as his behavior showed that he was infected beyond a doubt. He would probably die of his wounds before he would be reanimated. Sure enough, in a few minutes the blood coagulated and stopped flowing, and the old man closed his eyes. It was a lonely way to die, alone and bleeding on a cold stone floor in the middle of the apocalypse. I did not let myself waste any time. I grabbed a spike from a rack and a sledgehammer.

"What are you doing with that?" Bill asked. I didn’t bother to answer. He had an idea of what it was, but it was a reality that no one wanted to face.

I brought the spike to rest on its forehead. Just as the hammer came down, it opened its eyes. It was just in time.

I asked bill to go get a tarp. He went off with a blank, frightened look on his face. I looked back at the group. The eating and drinking had stopped. Everyone just looked down at their food with the same blank, frightened look.

To Be Continued...

[impslayer]

Chapter 6

No organ, no family or lifelong friends, no coffin, no church, no bells, no hymns of sorrow, and no grave and headstone, just a dimly lit hardware store in a grimy pseudo-city in a rapidly decaying society, a stone cold floor as his deathbed, bloody and sweaty strangers as his last witnesses, and a blue tarp as a body bag. Heroes of past wars at least had their comrades to die alongside, but this man died as he became the enemy that not long ago tried to cannibalize him. We all gathered around him, he was wrapped up so that only his head was visible. There was a gouge that not long ago had stopped him from becoming one of the thousands of other problems that were walking around outside. I truly felt sorry for the man. The lights flickered overhead. Tom stepped forward and gave a subdued speech.

"We are gathered here today to honor the memory of Kevin A. Thompson. He was known to his veteran friends as 'Tommy', and to his grandchildren as 'gramps'. He served in the Korean War as a volunteer, and saw intense combat. He was awarded the Silver Star for his bravery in combat and a purple heart for a bullet in his left shoulder. He returned to this area to start a family. He will always be remembered as a war hero and a family man. He gave much of his life saving to different charity groups, which earned him a reputation as a philanthropist. More recently, he created a distraction to lure those things away so that the rest of us could escape. His sacrifice will always be remembered as a brave and selfless act of courage that reflected on his life. We will miss him very much. Let's have a moment of silence to honor his memory."

We stood there quietly for a few minutes, meditating our situation and what might be necessary for the group to live. It was so quiet that you could have heard a gunshot in D.C., but the drone of the lights and the moans of the hungry predators outside precluded any chance of it. That was quite a mouthful on Tom's part. That guy may have been a ~~~~~~ leader, but he sure had a way with words.

"Alright, let’s take care of him."

We slowly marched up to the roof. It was as solemn a procession as any under those conditions. I could not help thinking about the burial of the Native American brave, which, like this, was ritualized and made to fit the current situation. Now that I look back at it, I do not know why we even bothered. If they still had respect for the dead, then I certainly did not. We reached the roof, and there was already an improvised crematorium waiting to receive the subject. We placed the body in the box and set it on fire. A little gasoline finished the job. The smoke seemed to carry the man's soul with it, right into the unforgiving sky that was already thick with smoke. In a few minutes all that remained was the bone, and we sealed that in a wooden box and nailed it into a hole in the barricade. Even in death, he would help to defend his comrades.

Bill and a weasel-like man called Steve brought a second tarp up to the roof. In it was the dead manager that bill had saved me from earlier. They brought the body to the edge of the roof and dumped it over the side. No respect for the undead. The body did not seem to be on the zombies' choice eats list, but that was not surprising. I understood the implications of this, but the others seemed perplexed. One named Mike retreated into a corner and started muttering to himself. Shelly started crying, and Tom was doing the best he could to console her. If they knew they would not believe it.

I paused for a second to look into the twilight. I had spent the majority of my life here, and was used to getting up to the smell of fresh air. The air was filled with smoke and the smell of blood. The groans of the undead squelched all other sounds, blending together to make an orchestra of death. I needed to relieve myself, so I took the liberty of doing it on the heads of those mindless dolts that were wandering in circles. Even in this madness that was taking place, in standing out on that roof issuing forth the yellow river I had never felt more free in my life. Finally I was master of my own fate, free to p~~~ anywhere I wanted, and everything I would do would be my choice. I was awed by this sudden feeling, or maybe i was still tripping, but whatever the cause, I spaced out for a few minutes. When I was done, I zipped up my pants and sat down on the ledge of the roof. Hungry hands grabbed up at me, trying to reach breakfast.

Breakfast? The sun was just beginning to appear over the old part of town, and it cast a faint orange glow on everything. As soon as we hit noon the flesh would start to stink. One named Kuchov walked over.

"I wish my wife could be with me."

"Is she dead?"

"Some pale ~~~~~~~ invaded out house and ripped her to shreds. If I ever get my hands on it..."

He thought for a second.

"Maybe its better that she is dead" He muttered to himself, and he went back down into the building. I thought of Shelly, she was a nervous wreck because of all that was happening. She probably wouldn’t hold up to this stress much longer.

As I sat on the roof I realized that the holy fumes that made my troubles go away were starting to lose potency. They gave way to the usual feelings of deep depression that I lived with day to day. I looked across the street two the three pharmacies that were right across the street. Normal was just across the street, but with all of those things running around out there; it might as well have been in Boston.

The sun was now halfway above the horizon. Its light brought with it warmth to make the living feel alive again. As the sun’s rays hit the corpses the stink intensified. I heard gunshots in the distance. There were probably still large groups trying to fight them off. It turns out that the citizens and local National Guard were doing a fairly good job fighting them off, but we didn’t know that. I should have figured it out. After all, a few months before it would not be unusual to see a few people walking down Main Street packing heat. We love our guns. Guess that paranoia finally paid off. “I should have bought that SKS” I mused as I headed back inside.

To be continued...

[impslayer]

Chapter 7

A week passed, and we had yet to come up with a plan. We practiced noise and light discipline as best as we could, but preparing supplies could not be done without a little noise and any of those things that lumbered off inevitably returned when a clanging of any number of things couldn’t be avoided. We could not find a TV but there were a few radios that we dedicated to an around-the-clock station scan. The reports were all the same, widespread panic and disorder gripped the nation. Apparently North and South America were the hardest hit, with minor outbreaks in Africa and Asia. Europe had infection, but it was limited to the port cities. Australia was unaffected, and the UN was setting up stations to receive refugees, but even during an apocalyptic epidemic, politics prevailed. Although the Americas were overrun, the US was holding its own, especially in the heartland region. They always said farmers were the backbone of the nation; I guess that had never been truer than right then.

The troubling media reports continued for some time, until we finally found what we were looking for. A public notice went out to the residents of the city to move west down highway 66 into the mountains. It seemed like a good proposition, and it was definitely what I would have done. Our general plan was as follows:

1. Clear back door
2. Exit through back door
3. Acquire an SUV
4. Head through adjacent suburb area
5. Exit suburbs near the church
6. Head down (blotched) Road.
7. Stop for supplies at grocery store
8. Top off the gas tank
9. Get guns and ammo from the sporting goods store
10. Use on-ramp to access the highway and drive west

Jobs were distributed. Tom was in charge (big surprise?) with Shelly, I was team repairman simply because of the fact that I had a basic knowledge of cars (…). Bill was in charge of demolition, as he used to be a mine worker. Steve's job was barricades, as he used to be a home contractor. Joe Steinman was the computer guy; he still had his laptop with him. Mike Simmons was a college student/marathon runner, so we assigned him to be scout. We also had a few guards whose general purpose was the defense of the group. Alexander Kuchov was a tank of a man, he might have been here on a visa, and was ex-spetsnaz. Ricky Gonzales was a middle age day laborer who lost his family to a rampaging drug lord in El Salvador. Last was Steinman’s wife Ann, of all people. Apparently Joe worked overtime as an office zombie and Ann took defense classes to make up for his absence. If she did not learn those skills, then neither of them would be there.

Supplies were gathered from the store's copious supply. There were plenty of melee weapons and a few guns, but the majority of our arsenal was made up of improvised explosives. Aside from conventional pipe bombs and Molotov cocktails, we had a number of other explosives. These included, but were not limited to, propane and acetylene cans. There was more than enough material, but we planned to send up the entire parking lot in flames if need be to open a path for our escape. We also had a couple of .22 rifles and 3 shotguns. My pack was about 75 pounds, which included weapons, supplies, my bb gun, a welding kit, ammo, and what I brought from home that was not charred.

Stealth was the subject of debate. We could not go at night, or it would pose its own risks. Likewise, moving during the day exposed us to the full attention of the goons. We argued back and forward until Tom told us that we had to go during the night. I would have rather gone during the day, but the guys went along with whatever Tom said. I understood that there were just always going to be people like that, but this was a life and death situation. I kept this in mind as we prepared to embark. I felt that if it was to come up later, it would be bad, either for him or me. I was not going to die for that selfish prick.

To be continued...

[impslayer]

chapter 8

The day finally came. It had rained all night and the sky was black with smoke and rain clouds. We had been delayed almost 9 hours on account of Shelly, who had an emotional breakdown. She went on for hours on the subject before we finally dragged her out with us. I cannot believe that Tom married that ~~~~~. While we were waiting to go, we discussed what had happened to us. Every man was eager to get in his say, weather he had lost his wife or his best friend, but they really didn’t even listen to each other. I had lost everything, including my family, my home, and my strength, and nobody really cared. The only person who understood was Gonzales. He had lost his family in El Salvador to a local drug cartel during the civil war and came to the states without any friends or family. I felt sorry for him; he did nothing to deserve what had happened to him. Life sucks.

Tom had no idea how we were going to get out the back door, so I improvised. There were not many of those things out back, so one bomb dropped from the roof should have done the trick. From there our path to the suburb would be open. We started at 6:30 am; dawn was just breaking over the bleak, unforgiving horizon. We threw a large propane can over the back of the building, and the explosion was so powerful that it nearly took the back wall of the building with it.

There was a brief moment of silence that gave us respite from the air of doom that hung over the area. It was broken by the sound of a few hundred slobbering dolts who had not eaten for a week. Their hunger made them more aggressive, and they were already heading around to the back of the building. Fortunately, the hardware store was part of a large shopping center, and it would take them at least 5 minutes to get around to the back. Chunks of rotten flesh from the explosion began to splatter around us as they fell back to the ground. It felt strangely satisfying, which scared me. Here were pieces of what were once people, and they were falling like hail at my feet.

I ran down the stairs to the group, and we left out the back door. The faster ones were already coming around the side. It was truly frightening to see them sprint. After an ugly flashback to a week ago, we ran down the street into the suburbs. The wire was still on the ground from when I was charred. I had grown up here, and seeing this place in the shape it was in was almost too much to take. What I found next definitely crossed the line. It seemed like an ordinary car wreck, but something was different. It involved a grey sedan and a green mini-van. The van was what bothered me. It seemed... familiar.

I took a closer look. With every second hope faded more, until it disappeared when I saw the license plate. I could recognize it anywhere. It was my parents'.

I took a look inside. The inside was covered in blood. My father died on impact, he never wore his seat belt. My mother, brother and sister were horribly mutilated. There was an infected in the car, and it was feasting on my sister, and it was none other than my former neighbor. Apparently too dumb to exit through the open door, it banged its head on the window in an attempt to break out.

This was too much. All that had happened before the outbreak and everything up to this point had built up, and this brought it all over the edge. Something snapped. Suddenly, all else faded to insignificance. I backed up a few feet and sat on the ground. As the rest of our group battled the runners, I examined a blade of grass. I do not know what came over me. As pandemonium set in around me, I stood there soaking it all in. I reached for my bowl and snapped the lighter, drowning myself in what was left of it. As my vision started to sway, I stumbled over to tom

"Ummm Tom, I think I’m going to go think about this for awhile. I’ll catch up with you later"

He looked at the van, then at me, then at the bowl, and nodded. They ran off, leaving me alone. I stood there thinking, soaking, absorbing, and contemplating. My attention was brought back at the approach of the undead. I just wanted to go home, which is exactly what I did. The pain, both physical and mental, was almost too much to take. If I was going to lose it, I would do it in the comfort of my home.

A short walk brought me back home. As I ascended the driveway, the memories came flooding back. I almost broke down right there, but decided to get inside first. I closed the door and my emotions took over. I sat there and cried. I do not know how long, but I do know that it was dark when I came to. I woke up and sensed a moment of respite, and a tidal wave hit me with all that had happened.

I cried as I went to my room. My head was seething with pain and at the rate I was going, I could not stand much more. I stumbled into my room and pulled out my stash. I had 8 grams, enough to last for months. I loaded up the bowl and smoked until the batch was burned out. I was so loopy that I stumbled around until I fell over.

That was when it got freaky. I laid there for hours on the floor puking my guts out. I couldn’t move or cry, and my head throbbed worse than the worst of migraines. I must have sat there for hours, I kept hearing things that I knew were in my head, but if they were real, I had no way of fighting them off. The hallucinations were so intense that I began to doubt reality. I was completely alone and helpless.

Eventually I regained some of my equilibrium and stumbled into bed. It was the first time I had slept well in weeks, but images of my family danced back and forth between my dreams. I hate being a slave to this stuff.

To be continued...