A Cimmerian Silence- A zombie apocalypse novel Book 1

Chapter 1

I stopped at a house on the end of a dirt road. The windows were smashed, and the front door was spray painted with a large red X. It was the first house I had come across for miles, and I needed somewhere to stay.

  With the setting sun, came a thick orange cloud, forming into fire above my head. I knew that it wouldn't be much longer until it changed to darkness- The darkness scared me.

With my foot, I lightly opened the door, and quickly threw my gun high with my finger on the trigger. Nothing came towards me, so with a deep breath, I stepped inside. I heard the floorboards creak under my feet as I sauntered through the hallway slowly.

The hallway grew longer, and then I stopped at the open space at the other side of the house- in that space sat a wooden dining table, with six matching chairs still elegantly placed around it.  To my left, there was an archway leading towards the living room, with the irony of no one living inside it. Everything was almost still sat in its place. The floor was almost tidy.

Although it was quiet, the quietness still made me cautious. I kept my gun high as I followed the staircase up. I turned on my flashlight to expose nothing but an empty space circling me. Thick layers of dust hovered into the air and fell to the floor, forming an unwanted pile of dirty snow around my trainers. Both doors to my right were left open; however, the door furthest from my eyesight was shut tight.

I stopped and listened carefully and reached for the door handle. I heard no sound- no movement. So, with a huff, I let my weight push open the door.

All of a sudden, a body thrusts onto mine, throwing me onto my back. My gun fell out my hand and slid across the floor, far out of my reach. Everything happened so quickly. My eyes darted around in horror.

The creature was blind- it looked as though it has gouged out its eyes with its nails that were sharp enough to be claws. Its teeth in its dislocated jaw hung below its chin. It tried to snarl at me as it took its remaining strength to grapple at my skin.

With my forearm, I barricaded it away from my chest, while I tried to reach for my pocket knife I had in my back pocket. I groaned in panic.

I felt the knife in my hand, so with no hesitation, I jabbed it into its skull- rotten blood distastefully splattered against my clothes. I kicked the corpse off of my body, and jumped up, sighing as I looked down at my clothes. I gave the creature another glance.

The creatures were known to me as 'infected'. Their bites were deadly- One bite, and you're turning into one of them, unless you put yourself out of your misery quick. They took over the world vastly. It couldn't have been controlled. Then before we all knew it, we were fighting for every breath we took.

By the time I had checked the rest of the house, the sky had turned to a deep mulberry wine colour, which I knew would soon turn black.

I dropped my backpack by the fireplace. Small logs of wood and old newspapers perched inside it, so I opened the box of matches and threw a couple of matches onto the newspapers. I watched the flames slowly grow higher, surrounding my face in warmth.

After gaping at the orange flames, I decided it was best to block the door from any unwanted visitors. The couch was the best and in fact the only option for this as it was heavy, and would need some force to be pushed away- some force I would be able to hear scraping against the wooden flooring.  And if that was to occur, I would have scurried through the broken windows long before they saw me. But a small seventeen-year-old who had hardly eaten in days, like me, found it extremely difficult to obtain the strength to push the heavy object.

With a grunt, the couch hit against the door, and my arms relaxed. I took the large pillows from the couch, and laid them next to the fire, before making myself comfortable and pulled out a tin of beans from my backpack. I unfolded my pocket knife I had placed back in my pocket, and rinsed the dirt off of it with the little water I had left in my bottle. After cleaning the knife, I dug the blade into the top of the tin of beans, before placing it by the edge of the fire only to stare at it sadly. This would be my last bit of food, maybe for a while.

I was worried that the fire would begin to dim, so I got another match, swiped it against the side of the box, and threw it into the relucent flames. As I laid back straight upon the pillows I had made into a mattress, I saw the orange gleam of the fire echo on the ceiling, reminding me of when I was younger, and when my father used to make hand shadow puppets with my bedside light when I couldn't sleep. I would laugh and play along with him, making up little voices for each character. But then I looked away and frowned, realising the life I once had was now gone.