Hide Aways

The day the world went to shit

Brianna's POV)

     See, weapons weren't her thing. Cheerleading was.

     Screaming wasn't her thing. Laughing was.

     Family wasn't really her thing. Friends was.

     Surviving wasn't her thing, either. She didn't have to. But now she did.

     While she did take archery, it was only for her friends, but she got a few bullseyes each day. She shot BB guns, but not at targets, not to mention moving ones.

     You may be wondering, who the hell raised her?

     She raised herself. And since her mother was drunk at the time, she went to the closest thing she had to a weapon.

     She may not be experienced, but with her bat came a deadly swing. That knocked and nearly killed her coach at practice one day.

     Wait up. Hold on. Wait what? Why did she need a weapon? Because zombies. They littered the streets. Now, even though she was athletic, she liked to sit at the tv and watch some shows, specifically Zombie ones. That explains her calm aura.

     She grunted. Every time she hit a dead person down, she would have to bite her lip from crying. It was too much.

     Sirens could be heard from miles away. So Could moans.

     A scream erupted down the deserted road. Another survivor, dead. She walked down towards the voice to find the infected hovering over the Now dead girl.

But they weren't tearing into her. Weird. In the movies, that's all they did. They bit and ate humans and animals alive. But these things didn't.

Brianna stepped on a stick, making a noise. Their heads snapped towards her. She gasped, and ran without looking back.

That is where she is now. In her room, against the door, bat in hand as she wondered what the hell she just saw.

Why didn't they eat her? She grabbed a duffel bag from the closet and stuffed clothing, weapons, and canned goods into it. In her hand her bat would permanently stay, countless switchblades hidden in her shirt and pockets. A single gun at her hip only for emergencies.

She checked the window, finding nothing outside. She ventured out, careful not to make a sound. She headed down the opposite road where the incident happened, and looked down an alley that she used to hang out with her friend in.

But he was replaced with a different boy, brown hair curling around his head, an Emo style. His lip ring glinted in the little sunlight, his blue orbs pointed towards the sky. He stood there, hands in his pockets, looking up at nothing.