Living Zombies

Prologue

-First chapter in 1st person and past tense, from future perspective

-I tried censoring the bad language, but you all know what it means anyway.

-I made it as Australian as I can.

No one knows how it started. No one knows where it started. In the beginning anyway. As time moved forward, I discovered these truths and now wish to tell others my story. So let me start at my beginning and explain things how I remember them.

I had been dozing in my hammock in the afternoon. I remember hearing my dad yelling, though he sounded far off. When I opened my eyes to look at him, he had already reached me. He had tripped over the metal poles that held the hammock to reach me.

"F*cking c*unt." He swore, but didn't stop. Confused and disoriented had not even begun to describe how I'd felt, as he'd picked me up and run into our house.

My dad had bought a gun years ago, after getting his gun and hunting licences. He went out to hunt Kangaroo's almost every weekend, bringing them back and turning them into skins that he would sell. He kept the skin of the biggest kangaroo he'd caught and had it as a carpet in our loungeroom. Our gun safe was displayed beside this carpet, since he showed off his gun and carpet together.

When we had entered the house, he had kicked the door shut and thrown me onto the couch, lunging at the gun safe and pulling out his hunting rifle. He had picked up his hunting bag, my hunting bag and mum's hunting bag as well as our emergency supplies bag. Then he turned to the wall. On this wall he had displayed many weapons he had gathered. Most were cheap things he had bought online and displayed, but that didn't make them any less dangerous.

"Dad, what's going on? Where's mum?" I remember asking, thinking the worst after all those late nights watching crime shows. "Did you kill her?" I had almost vomited when the words left my mouth, clenching my hands but wanting to know what he did.

"What? I didn't lay a hand on your mother, you sh*t head." My father had looked at me like I was crazy.

"Did you help someone kill her?" Was my next question.

"Why would I help someone kill your mother? Sure, we have our fights, but I'm not going to kill her because of that. If every couple did that, the world would be rid of humans. However, I suppose it is trying to rid itself of us right now." Dad had mumbled the last part, but I remember it clear as day.

"Why aren't you packed yet?" My mum had come in at that moment, looking at both of us, terror stuck on her face as she kept looking around, almost as if she was afraid someone would jump out.

"I'm f*cking trying woman, don't pester me. How about helping me out." My father had snapped at her.

"So, if mum's alive, does that mean you killed someone else?" I looked at them both in confusion as I got up to help grab some necessities.

"What the f*ck are you talking about Harley?" My mum had only spared me enough of a glance to look at me like I was an idiot.

"If no one's dead, then why are use panicking and packing everything?" I asked, wondering what other reason was good enough to send my parents into that panic mode. My parents were the typical laid-back Australians that just shrug everything off. Seeing them act so frantic had been enough to have my hairs standing on end and made me feel sick.

"Who said no one's dead? And on that note, who said no one's dying." My father had grunted, finally having his arms full and racing out to our hunting Ute.