When The Dead Rise

Prologue

Prologue.

I was born into a world that was different from the one that was described in the salvaged books. I was born into what people say is the apocolyps and maybe they're right; maybe this was the end of the human race.

My dad said that humans were the ultimate undoing of themselves. There was a war that our generation refers to as: The Fall. It was neuclear warfare, and we destroyed ourselves. Most of us are dead--well, were dead--but now they're back but changed. Scientist have said that the radiation has done something to the corpses, and now they've risen; horrible mindless creatures that hardly represent humans anymore. They're savage and heighten their numbers through exchanging their saliva with the living through biting.   

In some places, the air is so toxic that you can get infected from breathing it. Our generation calls this A.I: Airborne Infection.

My parents, brother and I lived on a reserve headed by what little form of government we had left. There were curfews, ration distributions, learning centers, training classes and a wall to protect us from the bandits and Infected outside. We had a place to sleep and we lived cautiously.  

I learned how to shoot a gun when I was 6 years old. I learned how to use my resources to make bombs, remedies and other weapons as well. I could run 13 miles without stopping by the time I was 10, and I killed my first zombie when I was 14.

My brother Adam and I were 2 of the few children that lived here. There were maybe 7 of us. My mom told me once that some people kill kids because they're a liability. We were lucky we were allowed to live.

I was 16 when the raids happened.

The bandits came through and slaughtered most of us for our supplies. My parents gave us our emergency back packs and told Adam and I to run; to run and find a safe place while they distracted them so we could make a clean escape.

They were killed.

The Davis family was no more; It was only Adam and I running with tears in our eyes and our hearts breaking with every frenzied step.  

No survivors from the reserve could be trusted. They resorted to thievery, so Adam had to kill to protect what was ours. I cried a lot during this time.

We only had eachother in this Hell. We never stayed at one place for long. We scavenged and avoided confrontation as much as we could. I protected Adam and he protected me.  

It was us against the world.

*******

4 Years Later  

Adam has been looking after me since he was 18 and I was 16. When our parents died, it was really tough and I had a hard time coping. But their deaths and being tossed out into the wilderness has brought us closer together.  

He was everything that I aspired to be. Adam had deep brown hair and matching eyes. He was maybe 5'11" with spindly limbs since we were always a little short on food. Adam gave all the orders and I was thankful that somebody else was thinking for me during my time of grief. We stuck to stealth and only took what we could carry. We had eachothers backs-- until that day where everything turned to shit.

"Go! Go! Go!"

Feet stomping and hearts racing, Adam and I were fleeing for our lives once again. The gurgled cries of the infected resounded not too far behind, and I could hardly keep up with Adam's long strides and bounds over the uneven terrain.

"Myra, Keep up!"

I'm trying! I want to scream, but I'm all out of air and my back pack is 100 pounds too heavy and I'm tired, I'm so tired that I just want to stop. I keep my eyes on Adam's retreating form, trying to focus on him and not the rancid breath of the abominations that I swear was caressing the back of my neck. Adam made a sharp left turn and is making his way to the decimated remains of a mall. I track his steps, pushing myself as hard as I could, and just when I thought my heart was going to rupture and I was going to face plant, Adam's lanky arm snatched the collar of my jacket and he was pulling me along down a dark hall.