"What the hell is going on!?"
"What is happening!?"
"Whats is everybody running from!?"
These were the questions I shouted in the middle of the streets, at 3:00 in the morning, to the people of New York fleeing past me with terrified looks on their faces. I had no idea the level of fear that resided in everyone until I witnessed something truly heartbreaking.
There, in front of me, I saw a small family desperately trying to run the opposite direction from where ever the source of panic originated from. Two parents had stopped, just too look back at their daughter, who had fell down, injuring her knee.
Instead of aiding her, both the parents just left her behind. They did not even bother to look back a second time to take another look at their little girl. What ever it was, in the distance, must have been something that could make almost any human, on earth, flee, just to save themselves. The girl, who did not look past the age of nine, cried out for her mommy and daddy, but her plea went unanswered by them.
Choosing to due the right thing, I rushed over to her.
Since everyone in sight could hear the pleas of a crying child and choosing to be cowardly bastards, I had no remorse to punch a few people, only to assist the child myself.
"Nothing more than a small scrap kid," I assured her.
I then rubbed some of my saliva on her injury, then followed the process by tearing a scrap of cloth from my shirt and tying it around her knee.
"Better?," I asked.
"A little," she answered. "Thank your mister, but why did mommy and daddy leave me?"
"Call me Gabe kid," I instructed her. "As for your parents kid..."
Before I could say anything more, an explosion went off a couple of blocks from my position.
Deciding it was not safe out in the open, I picked her up and rushed back into my apartment on the third floor.
Once I locked and bolted the door, still not knowing what the hell was going in the city, I put the kid on my couch and told her to cover her ear as we could hear muffled screams coming from outside.
I made my way over to the window to see more of what was going on, only to find out why everyone was running.
It looked as though gang members were taking control of the city. I could tell by the way they were dressed. The colored bandanas were, clear, a dead give away.
Still...something seemed off in a way. I could see members of different gangs, not killing each other, but attacking civilians.
Why would the gangs of the city kill civilians and not even catch eyes with rival gangs instead?
None of this seemed to make any sense. I should know as one of the riot prevention squads of the city.
Instead of wasting time, trying to figure out the situation on my own, I decided to turn the t.v. on and see what the local news had to report. I then payed careful attention to what the anchor woman had to say.
It seemed that a recent rise in heroin deaths had skyrocketed in the past couple of hours.
Hospitals, everywhere, had been flooded with gangs that had taken doses of heroin. Before patients died they all confessed they had received shipments of contaminated heroin from overseas countries from Central and South America.
Also, moments after doctors pronounced times of deaths they, unfortunately, reanimated themselves. After that all patients, that were momentarily dead, rose up and started to attack then devour the living. Not even other patients, that were admitted for other reasons, had also had their flesh torn and eaten. Not even the hospital staff survived.
Security staff, everywhere, had been forced to draw weapons then proceeded to open fire, but only succeeded by slowing them down for a moment. Eventually, they too were ripped apart.
Those who were only bitten, somehow able to escape into the streets, died minuets later, due to infection, having only to rise up themselves and repeating the process.
"Damn it all!," I cursed, turning off the t.v.
I rushed to my closet, down the hall, and suited up in my riot gear with everything I had. Body armor, helmet, nightstick, combat knife, and a 9mm handgun. I even grabbed the rifle, I kept at my bedside in-case of emergency.
The girl panicked and rushed to my side when we both heard multiple bangs at my door, followed by scream for help by a woman.
I then pushed the girl in my closet, instructing her to not come out until I told her otherwise.
"Everything will be okay kid," I assured her. "I promise. What is your name anyway?"
"Emily," she answered.
"Remember what I said Emily. Do not come out until I tell you to."
I closed the closet door, desperately trying to keep her safe, and rushed to the front door.
"Help me please!" The plea sounded like it came from a woman. "Let me in. They are going to get me."
Whoever it was at the door, it was too late to do anything for her. I could hear her running further down the hall from the opposite direction, whereas multiple rushing steps were approaching.
The next thing I knew I heard a window crash.
The woman must have jumped through the third story window, ending her own life. I even heard her screams as she made her way down to the streets, most likely paving the road with her own blood.
The rushing steps came closer as the group teared down every door they were passing by, followed by more screams of mercy before they were silenced.
Eventually, after a few minuets, my door was next.
On the other side I could hear loud sniffing, followed by snarling and growling.
They knew I was here.
It was one blow after another as the door gradually began to weaken. After a few moments the door finally began to crack, eventually making a whole in the middle of the door. It was then I could see the faces of my assailants.
There must have been dozens of then, knocking each other out of the way, just trying to get to me. Each one of them had blood pouring from each of their mouths. They also had gray pale skin and only white in their eyes.
Next thing that happened I fire my rifle, hitting a male between the eyes. He, or it, fell to the ground dead.
I fired several more shots, one after another.
"Damn it!" I cursed. "There is just no end to these things."
For every one I shot and killed, another would take it's place.
Soon enough, I ran out of my ammo and resorted to my handgun.
Moments pass and what was left of my door was not going to hold for long. I had to think of something quick. My gun was low on ammo and I could only think of one last option.
I lifted up the couch with all my strength and used it as a barricade, against the door. I followed up by dragging a bookcase, also to help reinforce, and the last thing I could use was my t.v.
It was not much, but it bought me the time I needed to grab the girl and throw her into my bathtub. It was the safest place I could put her in attempt to keep her safe.
Next I shut the bathroom door and made my way to the kitchen. From under the sink I pulled out a small propane tank.
I placed it next to the barricade and waited for the moment of truth.
As I waited for my inevitable death I decided to use what was left of my life to have a cigarette. I savored the delicious cancer as I found it to be the most relaxing smoke of my life, despite the horde of zombies attempting to break down my front door.
I was only about halfway done with my cigarette when the undead broke through. The very moment they all lounged at me, that was when I opened fired and witnessed the explosion.