When I woke up that morning, I already knew something was very, very wrong.
I wasn't even fully awake yet when I heard the frantic bits of conversation from my uncle and dad. Their footsteps were echoing across our wooden floors; it sounded like they were running from room-to-room.
When I had fully woken up, I was quick to jolt from the couch where I slept, looking around with wide eyes. I didn't know what was going on, and I was frightened of the possibilities. I hopped off the couch after a moment, looking around warily.
Suddenly, my dad and Uncle Merle ran into the room with bags slung over their shoulders. I furrowed my eyebrows at their panicked expressions as they ran around the house, gathering random items and shoving them into their duffel bags.
When Dad eventually noticed that I was awake, he rushed over and slammed a small, but still heavy, duffel bag in my arms. "Go to the truck, we'll be comin' right behind ya."
"Why, what's hap-..."
"Go now, Sidney!"
The tone in his voice told me that it wasn't the time for questions, and so I obediently did as I was instructed. I slung the duffel bag over my shoulders and made a beeline for Uncle Merle's truck. I didn't know what was happening, maybe some natural disaster, or maybe some people were after us (it wouldn't be the first time), but I knew whatever it was, was serious. I don't think I had ever seen my dad look so worried before then.
Moments after I had gotten in the back seat of the truck, the passenger's side was thrown open by Dad. He hopped inside, panting, as he slung his duffel bag in the back seat. Uncle Merle then got in the driver's seat, and threw his duffel bag into Dad's lap.
He started the truck in a frenzy, and took off like a madman down the road. It was strange, the road was almost abandoned; there were no cars, no people, and almost no life whatsoever. To me, nothing seemed wrong, but I knew that couldn't be true just based on the way Uncle Merle and Dad were acting.
We drove for awhile before Dad spoke, not being able to keep quiet any longer. Usually, he was the one driving and in control of where we going. Sadly, most of the time Uncle Merle was too "out of it," as Dad always called it, to do anything.
"Where we headin', Merle?" Dad asked after a few minutes into the drive. He folded out a map in his lap, shoving Uncle Merle's duffel bag onto the floorboard of the truck.
"Wanna try for the city?" Uncle Merle asked, not taking his eyes off the road for one second. That was the most focused I had ever seen him when it came to driving; he was usually carefree and reckless, when he did drive, that was.
"... Maybe that ain't the best idea, Merle," Dad advised slowly, pointing to something out of the front window.
I followed his finger, as did Uncle Merle, and my face fell when I saw what he was pointing at.
Growing closer to us by the second was the great city of Atlanta, although something was very wrong about it. Instead of the bustling, rushing cars that normally occupied the freeway, there was a line of still, abandoned cars that must've stretched for miles. As I looked further into the city, I saw that the buildings didn't look right, either. Instead of their normal gray, and sometimes light blue, color, every building in the city was stained a shade of pitch black.
"What in the..." Uncle Merle trailed off, shaking his head with confusion.
"Looks like they bombed it, huh?" Dad said, leaning forward on the dashboard to get a better look at the destroyed city.
I was beyond confused at that point, and I couldn't hold back my questions any longer. "Why'd they bomb the city? What's happenin'?"
"Uh, we ain't sure, Sid, but whatever it is, we're gettin' away from it," Uncle Merle said while frantically reading Dad's map.
"Where to now, Merle?"
"Like hell if I know, you're the map expert, baby brother!"
"Well give me the map, then, damn!"
"Guys," I said, looking out the window at something in the distance.
"Here, you want the map? Take it!" Uncle Merle yelled. He proceeded to shove the huge, crinkled map into Dad's face, attempting to hold it there.
"Son of a-..." That sentence was followed by a string of vulgar profanities as Dad reached across the seat in an attempt to hit Uncle Merle.
"Guys!" I tried once again, looking up to them with wide eyes.
"What?!" They both answered at the same time, looking back at me with eyes that could kill. Dad was holding the front of Uncle Merle's shirt, about to punch him directly in the face, before he saw me pointing to the window. They both followed my finger, and when they saw what I was pointing at, they let go of each other immediately.
I didn't know why, but a large, swarm of people were running towards us, with their arms outstretched and mouths open. The people looked as though they hadn't showered in a couple days; their clothes were ragged, their skin was dirty, and they just looked exhausted in general.
Before I could get a better look at the crowd of people, Uncle Merle had sped off, except that time, he was in reverse, trying to avoid the oncoming herd of people. I looked behind me, out the rear window, and saw a large, brick building quickly approaching.
"Merle, go forward, dammit!" Dad yelled, jerking the wheel as Uncle Merle attempted to shift gears. Without stopping the truck, he thrusted it into drive, and began speeding forward. To avoid the swarm of people barreling towards us, he took a harsh left into the city, swerving all across the road. I was holding on for dear life in the backseat, still trying to figure out what in the world was going on.
On the streets of Atlanta, there were more of the people, most of the time traveling in huge groups. The further we drove into the city, the harder it got to find a way around them. It was as if the entire city's population had just decided to go outside and wander aimlessly in the middle of the roads.
After watching helplessly for minutes as Uncle Merle recklessly drove through the city, I couldn't bite my tongue any longer.
"Can one of ya'll please explain what's goin' on?"
They didn't answer me, or acknowledge that I had spoken at all, really. I wasn't surprised, I was kind of used to it.
"Merle, hey, look up there!" Dad said, pointing to something outside the driver's window.
I leaned around the seat to see what Dad was pointing at, and at first, I didn't see anything. Then, I noticed a thin cloud of vertical smoke ascending into the air, obviously coming from a fire.
"There's fire there, must mean there's people, too. Wanna try for it?" Dad asked.
"Looks like our best bet..." Uncle Merle said, making a sharp left onto a side street.
It didn't take us long to reach the fire. It was perched on a mountain, where a nice, comfortable camp was set up. The people warmly welcomed us into it, telling us we could stay as long as we earned our keep.
The camp was full of nice people, and even some kids my age.
There was Lori, who was the mother to a kid named Carl. He was only four months older than me, which was really cool. Then, there was Carol and Ed, and their daughter, Sofia. She seemed shyer than most, but she could've been just afraid. There was also Morales and his two kids, which, one was three years younger than me and the other was about two years older.
That was it as far as the kids around camp, but there were lots of other people as well. There was Andrea, and her sister, Amy, Glenn, who seemed fairly nice, Dale, who was almost like the leader, Shane, a police officer, Jim, a mechanic, T-Dog, and Jacqui.
After awhile, of us being around camp, Shane decides to send a group out on a supply run including of Andrea, Jacqui, Glenn, T-Dog, Morales, and Uncle Merle, who offered to go in order to help earn his place.
I didn't buy it though, knowing my uncle. More than likely, he probably just wanted to get away from everyone so he couldn't have people telling him what to do.
My relationship with my uncle, and even Dad, was strained. For as long as I could remember, things had been hard for us. We were always tight on money, hardly able to afford any food, let alone other things. All the pressure put a strain on my uncle and dad's relationship, too. Some days, they'd be kidding around with each other, like normal brothers should, but on others, they'd be fighting and screaming at each other so bad the house would shake, and that wasn't even the worst part.
The worst part was, after their fight was over, they never acknowledged it again. It was like it never happened, and I was the only one who remembered the yelling, and the screaming, and the fighting. I don't know how they could stand it, let alone act completely normal the next morning, because those fights left me heartbroken.
I think I held some resentment towards my dad and uncle for that reason, but I loved them nonetheless, whether the feeling was reciprocated or not. Back then, they were all I had.
Eventually, at camp, I got someone to tell me what was going on, and why we had to leave our house. The answer practically made my heart stop.
The only question floating around in my mind after I learned the dead had risen to feast on the living was, how?
Although, I couldn't find an answer, because I knew everyone else was asking the same thing. They were just as confused as I was, even Dad and Uncle Merle were.
As nighttime began to fall in the camp, I was told to go in the RV and sleep there since Dad had left to go hunting earlier in the day.
Even though I doubted I could get any sleep, I curled up under a blanket on the love seat of the RV and attempted to get comfortable. I didn't close my eyes at first; I just lied there, looking up at the ceiling and trying to think straight.
It wasn't until right then I noticed how tired I was. I guess all the shock from the day had finally worn off, and left exhaustion in its place.
Against my will, I ended up letting my eyes rest, and no more than a minute later, I was sound asleep.