Forward Note: It's a zombie story! Yay! Alright, basic premise is this: In early 2009 a huge gold strike was made on Federal Land, and due to old, unchanged laws there was a mad rush, giving rise to a modern boom town of ten-thousand people about one-hundred miles west of Fairbanks.

Six months later, during the high point of summer the avian flu sets down in Montreal, where it is immediately crushed by extremely prompt government action. A week after the quarantine is lifted several cases of the disease appear in Seattle, WA, Los Angeles, CA, and Dallas, TX. These strains are different, however, and cause the infected to go mad. Two weeks later and an estimated thirty percent of the West Coast is walking dead, with this number rising expodentially faster.

Due to a single misleading news report many of those left throughout the country get it in their heads that the only way to survive is to go north, setting off a mass exodus. On July 25th the head of the hundreds of thousands fleeing for the arctic smashed through the Alaskan Border. On July 26th all semblance of law and order in Anchorage was lost. Now there are only several hours before an estimated three million people crash upon the Golden Heart of the Interior - Fairbanks. Watch from the perspective of a sixteen year-old boy as the world goes to hell in a day, and hell on earth in a week.

Index: If you want to skip ahead to a chapter, then use Ctrl+F and search for "Chapter One" or "Chapter Two", or so on and so forth.
Prologue


"You're really serious?" David asked incredulously.

Andy could only nod in reply.

"Shit."

"Yea."

Only minutes ago a local news report on the exodus making its way towards Fairbanks had concluded, leaving off with a sweeping view of the Richardson Highway, which was clogged with cars, and not just on the pavement. There were simply too many to comprehend on that one stretch of highway, and it was a miracle that they had been able to get enough gas to get this far.

Before that there had been a report about the "Viral Menace" that was sweeping through the West Coast, but nothing too concrete. A quick search on the internet had proved inconclusive as well, as there was only speculation and gossip about it.

Andy got up off the couch where he had been sprawled for the last hour and stretched, thinking as he did so. His parents were out of town, off in Europe or some place like that, and he had been staying at home to 'keep the fort' and such nonsense. Hopefully they would be OK. David's parents were both out of town as well, but they were only in Sheen, the boomtown to the west. Perhaps they could just stay in his house, maybe that would be fine...

"So, what do we do now?" David pondered aloud, effectively derailing Andy's train of thought.

"Well, I think that we should go into town and get some food. It might be good, you know, since all these bastards are gonna come up here and be hungry," Andy offered. "Come on - we'll take your truck."

David only thought about it for a second before consenting - he generally would do whatever Andy told him to. As David went out to start his truck (A dirty old red pick-up) Andy shut off the T.V. and locked the back door of his home. Before he went out to join David he went upstairs to make sure that his three cats were out of his parents' room like they should be. They were, and all three of the furry things were on his bed in an enormous pile. As Andy turned to leave one of his many knives caught his eye from his desk, and he grabbed and dropped it in one of his front pockets before leaving.

He paused to lock the front door on his way out, and then dashed over to the passenger side of David's truck. Andy didn't know why, but he felt electrified and alive - and on edge. Just a few days ago everything had been normal, and now... Now things weren't looking so good.

"Where to?" David asked once Andy had gotten himself situated.

"Fred's, I guess," Andy muttered.

Above them a gray sky glowed ominously, and soon a light rain began to drizzle. It soon began to seem as if the whole town had been woken up by the news of the coming masses, as the roads quickly showed themselves to be clogged with other cars that all seemed to heading anywhere it was possible to head.

It only took five minutes for the two to reach Fred Meyer's, however, and soon they stepped outside the truck. Down they stepped, down onto the bloody pages of history.