Outnumbered (Vol. 1)

Act 1: Attending A Disaster

I pick up and throw various objects at the window of the residence across from my parents' house until it shatters completely. I take a deep breath and step back slowly. I place the flashlight in my back pocket. Immediately, I sprint with great speed and determination toward the window. With all my might, I tackle toward the window of this house, flying through, and keep flying all the way through the window of the residence next to this one. I land hard on the floor in the next-door house and successfully make it unharmed. That was not an easy feat.

I get up from the carpet floor and pull back out the flashlight from the back pocket of my jeans. I use the light to pierce the darkness around me in this unknown house and begin walking to find the front door of it. As I travel a hallway, I notice a digital clock sitting on a wooden stand, next to the wall. Since it's not working, I confirm that the electricity is indeed out, as I previously figured. I continue down the hall, getting closer to the front of the house, where an exit should be located. A chilling feeling comes over me, then I hear a noise that startles me greatly.

My heart begins pumping very quickly. The sound seems to have come from just around the corner I have to pass to reach the front of the house. I get close to the wall and walk slowly and quietly to the end corner of the hall. With much fear, I peek around the edge to find out what is making the sound. The minute I look, without warning, a sick, deformed human appears behind me and attacks while making a horrific moan.

The seemingly undead person attempts to attack, as I spot a couch that had been turned over. I run behind it to take shelter and hide from the infected person, which I decide to call a zombie, for lack of a better term. It definitely is chasing me but seems to not be able to necessarily see me. As I sit here hiding, while it is merely inches away from me, I notice that I am breathing hard and thought that it may still have the sense of hearing. It is too late to detect, for it has already heard me. Now knowing my location, the zombie lunges at me to attack. As I tremble in fear, ready to die, I can hear the loud sound of a shotgun, and with that sound, tiny, spherical projectiles shoot through and kill the zombie by the head. I catch a glimpse of the killer, and it is none other than one of my best friends named David.

David is a white American, medium-sized teen, with short, spiky, red hair, and a freckled face. The red hair and freckles come from his Irish family background. In his hand, is a loaded, 870 Express Super Magnum shotgun that he had killed the zombie attacking me with. He is wearing a plain white T-shirt, doused in blood but still intact, and black, regular-fit jeans.

I don't look quite as nice; I have somewhat long, brown, hair, like a bowl-type haircut, and am wearing nothing but khaki shorts that are battered and torn. I am average height for a boy, and I am thin and toned. Most of my friends say I look really young for my age. I'm a white American by race, but unlike David I don't have much of a racial background.

"Nice shot," I try to catch my breath.

"You all right, Ben?" David asked, checking for my safety.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Thanks for that save, by the way. What are you doing here?"

"This is my house, dude. When Charlie went insane back at Austin's place, and you and Ty went running, I left too and decided to come hide out here and check on my sister. When I got here, though, all those things were flooding the place."

We begin walking on, together. David jogged my memory. Sometime before, I was at a party at my friend's house.

"So, did you find your sister?"

"Nope. No trace of her anywhere."

"I'm sorry, dude. I hope you find her soon."

"Thanks. By the way, I've been, kinda, studying up on these things, as I find them."