No One Is Safe

Chapter One

A bullet shot through the crisp Autumn air of North Carolina; there was no sound, except from the occasional groan from the undead and the wind blowing dead leaves and debris from shattered buildings across the roads, to indicate a shot was ever fired. Only when it hit a zombie straight in the forehead, blood gushing out the back and the zombie collapsing to the floor, you could make the conclusion that someone had fired.

On a small, abandoned apartment block roof stood a twenty-one year old girl staring down the scope of a black sniper rifle. The apartment building itself was blackened with scorch marks with windows that were either boarded up with wood that had been decaying for a while or just empty spaces were glass used to be. The girl by the name of Isabelle Rivers, or by the name she goes by now as 'Blake', had a nonchalant look on her face as she moved her gun to the other zombie a few feet away from the one that lay on the floor; all her focus on her aim as she pulled the trigger.

Blake turned away to pick up her backpack that was set on the floor to her left, not bothering to check if the zombie was actually dead, knowing for sure that the audible smack of rotting flesh hitting hard concrete was enough for her.

She wore black skinny jeans ripped at the thighs and knees from years off climbing and running, a tattered grey tank-top with three skulls on the front in black and white, black combat boots covered in dirt, and a black hoodie. Around her neck was a thin burgundy scarf and a silver engraved dog tag, black, leather fingerless gloves were on both her hands and her dark brown hair was styles in a messy high ponytail.

As she shrugged her backpack on, Blake walked to the side of the apartment building and examined the alleyway below. There was no ladder nor anything that stuck out for her to grab on to, so that meant she would have to jump down. Fortunately for her the drop to the ground wasn't that far and there was a large bin below her.

Swinging the rifle around her shoulder, she crouched down until she was sitting right on the edge and plunged not-so-gracefully onto the rubbish container. A thud sound was made as her feet landed on the hard plastic. Blake not wasting any time she jumped down and went to the opening of the alleyway and looked around the empty streets cautiously, before running to the opposite building from the one she was sniping from.

The blue eyed girl was relieved that she was on the outskirts of the city where the streets were, more or less, abandoned unlike further inwards where there were hordes of zombies.

Blake stopped in front of a wretched shop, her guard fully up, she warily pushed the wooden door open and entered. Glass and rubble cracked under her boots as she took her knife out of it's holster - that rested around her waist - and wielded it in her hand. Taking a quick look around to see if any zombies were in the vicinity; when she saw none Blake took extra precaution and banged the bottom of the knife a few times on the counter beside her.

Not even three seconds later, Blake heard the loud clang of objects falling onto the floor in the back room and a zombie come stumbling out. It stood there disoriented until it's eye's focused on Blake, who also stood there looking more bored and tired - from the bags under her eyes - than anything else. The walking corpse started to limp forward. A stream of blood trailed behind it covering the dirty laminate floor in black liquid with every hop it took forward.

As it drew closer groans escaped it's torn off lips, all you could see was grey gums and black teeth, as it's shredded fabric that used to be called clothes hung loosely around it's walking corpse. Blake tightened her grip on her knife, as the zombie lifted his hands to try and grab Blake, but only got sent back by her foot as she slammed it in to his stomach so hard it sent him to the floor. Being quick on her feet, she stood on both the zombie's swinging arms. Even with it's arms bound to the floor it's head still tried to reach up and take a bite out of her; desperate for a taste of human flesh. Bringing her knife down on it's skull, it easily went through the decomposed skin as black blood poured out of the knife wound and onto the already bloody floor.

Standing up straight, she moved the hair out of her eyes with her free hand and began making her way down the different isle of the shop. Most of the shelves were empty apart from the occasional insect eating the stale or moldy bits of food, when a few tin cans on the floor caught her eye. Bending down to pick one up, she noticed that the can hadn't been open or damaged in any way making her stomach growl.

As time moved on from when most of humanity was wiped out from the unknown virus, food was getting more and more scarce. From all crops that had previously been grown were now rotten - from been abandoned for so long - or trampled - from everyone who ran for their lives to get to the military aid and head to the nearest safe camp; to zombies also killing of most of the wildlife. So a few cans of baked beans were to be fought over.

Placing her rifle on the floor beside her and taking of her backpack, she place both of the cans into her bag before picking up her backpack and rifle, swung them back on her back then proceeded to her search for any other items that could be handy.

A harsh sigh tore through Blake's lips when she noticed the shop was near enough empty. As she circled back around to where the counter was, Blake decided to entre the room the previous zombie came out off.

But alas, there was nothing to salvage.

~*~

The sun was setting far upon the horizon, the light being vanquished into the darkness until the following morning. The girl trampling her way to through the wild forestry to her place of temporary sanctuary - a small wooden hut hidden by overgrown bushes and shrubbery. She use to love the night and everything that came with it. The way the little spects of white would shine bright in the black abyss of the night, and how the cold air gently nipped at her skin. It was tranquil - with a sense of normality.

Well, that was before the virus, where killing the undead seemed Preposterous. Now, it was just an everyday chore to survive; that was the new normal. Sure there were countless films, video games and novels created around the concept of the end of humanity, but that's what people thought it was. Fiction. Scenarios created in the author's imagination, not thinking that one day it would happen in the near future.

Three years on and Blake hated it; not like there was many things to enjoy anymore. The once gleaming spect of white didn't shine as bright anymore, the gentle fresh air turned sickening and the undead became more active. That and the pitch blackness would be a bitch to you if you didn't have any form of lighting.

Blake just wished this nightmare would end; where she could go back to being a shitty teenager who was about to go off on her own and experience new things. Where the worst thing she had done was the time she back into someone's car, and not things much, much worse then what she's done to this day.

Blake didn't know if there were any other survivors out in the vast wasteland...

Or if she was the only one left...

But what she did know was that she couldn't wait to eat one of the cans of beans, and hopefully not to be interrupted by the flesh tearing monster lurking outside.