You'd Better Run

Chapter 1: The beginning

So you've heard of the zombie apocalypse right? Of course you have. You've probably read books on it, watched films about it, played games based on it. You probably found it a bit of fun, maybe you jumped at a scene where a zombie pops up behind the main character and screamed at them to turn around. You may be the person that has seen every zombie film there is to see and delight in dressing as one every Halloween (despite being way too old to beg for candy. Yes I'm talking to you). You don't really believe in it, do you? Viruses, crazy science experiments, radioactive waste; the lot. What a load of nonsense, you laugh.

Wrong.

What I'm about to tell you is not nonsense. The zombie apocalypse really did happen to me. We still don't fully understand how or why it happened. The only thing we truly know is that this is an ongoing battle. If we want to survive we have to fight for our lives. That's right; I'm not alone. But first let me tell you how it all began. This is my story of how I got to where I am and how I survive the apocalypse day in, day out. I've survived this far, and now is your chance to experience what my life has been like.

Are you ready? Because there's no going back. Well here goes... This little adventure of mine began nearly 8 years ago with a knock on the door...

***

"Post!" My ten year old self shrieked excitedly as there was a knock on the front door. Abandoning my drawings in my bedroom I bounded downstairs in my fluffy slippers. It was 8.30 on a Saturday morning and my mum had gone food shopping while my dad was still in bed because he had a late shift at work last night. I was up early as usual and full of energy. I was particularly excited for the post as it was my birthday next week so I hoped there would be some for me.

My feet skidded around the corner as I reached the door and I peered through the lookout hole to check who it was. My parents didn't like me opening the door but they were good friends with the postman so I didn't think they would mind this one time. Opening the door carefully I looked up to greet the postman with a big smile. I was anticipating a friendly response and possibly a sweet like he often brought with him specially for me. I peered up at his blue polo shirt with the mail logo on it, accompanied by a small dark stain on one arm. My grin shone up at the man who had brought us our post for the last few years.

I faltered, however, when I saw that he was visibly pale and shaking slightly. Eyes dilated and bloodshot, focussing on some point above my head. In his hand he clutched some letters and a small parcel that had our address on, but he didn't move to hand them over.

"Arrrggh urrmm," a moan escaped his mouth, along with a bit of dribble.

"Are- are you okay Mr.?" I said timidly, feeling worried when he didn't respond. His face turned to mine slowly and I stepped back in shock. His expression was... I couldn't describe it. It was as though he hadn't eaten in days. Ravenous. A new word I had learnt recently described it perfectly. I hit a solid wall and leapt into the air. My heart thundered loudly in my chest as I turned around. It was my father, wearing a pair of tartan pyjama trousers and a white shirt that he had been sleeping in. His light brown hair was sticking up in several directions and he was rubbing his stubble tiredly. I sighed slightly in relief, crossing my arms in an attempt to seem calm. Dad looked at me, then the postman and frowned.

"Morning John," he said to the postman who still hasn't replied. "Got some post for us there?" My father held out his hand and John stiffly raised his arm and deposited the package in my father's hand. I could see where his clammy grip had crumpled some of the letters where he had been holding them so tightly. I slowly edged behind my father as he told the postman thanks and to have a good day before closing the door. He was still frowning as he turned around and I heard him mutter, "how odd..." under his breath.