"Is he dead?" My mind swarmed with thoughts. Thoughts that scared me. I don't know how, but I was lying on the ground, unable to get up. My arm was pinned, and I felt a sharp pain, sort of like a bite. Bite. Zombies. I racked my head and remembered what I was doing. Survive. Get back up. I decided to follow what they were saying. They thought I was dead. They think I will turn.
"We'll give him this shot. It won't bring him back, but we belive that it will stop him from turning. What did you say your name was?"
"Miho Horri." The name struck me. I knew her from some where. The next thing that struck me was that they were giving me a shot of some sorts. I tried to open my mouth, to tell them it was a knife wound, not a bite. My lips wouldn't move. All that came out was a moan. It wasn't mine.
"Hurry we have to go," the mystery voice said. I felt a shot in my arm. No...must... survive....I...won't...die...here...

Morning

I woke to an average day. I went downstairs and realized I was very thirsty. Opening the fridge, I noticed it was empty. Then, the first memory struck me.

May 22nd, 2009
"What a wonderful day for this to happen," exclaimed Tim. I nodded agreement. Normally, this would the last day of school, and everyone would be cheering. No one was cheering now. They were either dead or zombiefied. Yes, we were under siege by zombies. What still bothered me was Jessica Hatch's eyes staring at me blankly, before her bloody face lunged at me. I remember how many people went to the school. It was around 1000. Now, probably the only survivors were the 20-30 people in this house. When the school fell under attack, my friends and I ran straight towards Tim's house. It was right across the street. Danielle Leroy's (she is actually a fourteen year old not the muscle person you see on youtube) group also managed to make it.
"What do we do now" someone asked. Everyone turned to me.

Tim Dong. Danielle Leroy. Erin Turner. Jordan Diggens. Where did I know these people? I took a good look at the building I was in. It was someone's house. But it seemed oddly familiar. Then I realized it was my house. My house? Then something struck. I didn't know anything about me. I searched the-my-house for any record of who I was. The only thing I found was a letter on the table. It was open. Picking it up I decided to see what it had to say.

Dear Brian Yu:


The soldiers said that if you did make it, you would have no memory of who you are, or who we are. The rest of us and I decided to leave a few things for you so you might remember. However, since you don't remember anything, some of us, Danielle being the first person to come to mind, worried that you might become emotionally unstable again. Now, none of us want that to happen because you have come a long way. The box is in your closet, underneath the second floarboard from the left.
Since you are reading this, I should say it's nice to have you back. The soldiers say we have to go now. Sorry that we probably won't meet again


Sincerley,
Erin Turner


Finally! A clue to who and what I am! But where was my room? I decided to follow my fragemented memories.

May 30th 2006
A eleven year old boy was excited for his birthday. Exiting from his kitchen, he went up the stairs, turned right, and jumped onto the bed. On his right was the closet. He needed to get some sleep so he would be well rested tormarrow. After all, its not like zombies are going to attack now. Right?


Eagerly, I ran up the stairs turned left, and ended back up in the room I started in. Shaking off thoughts of my past, I went into the closet and opened up the floorboard. Sure enough, there was a package. I almost tore it open and its contents spilled on the floor. A school yearbook, photos, and a letter fell into a heap. I opened up the letter, and another piece of my former life came back to me.

Diversity training. May, 2008
"Exactly what are you sorry for?" asked Danielle Leroy.
"For everything in the past year," I quickly rushed out, clearly not enjoying this.
"That's right," said Jordan, "Now I did most of the negotiating, so you owe me two weeks worth of chips."
"Fine," I sighed. Today was definitly not my day.
"You know to be honest, I was just pretending to mad at you. You're kind of funny when you're scared. I can't even remember what got me so mad in the first place," admitted Danielle.
"Well, to be honest, I wasn't really afraid myself," I replied. Looks like thinks were turning up after all.

I stumbled back into real life and opened up the yearbook, searching for the names I recalled. Slowly, but surely, I remembered what people looked like. The way I am discovering my life is like reading a book about someone else's life. Rubbing my head, I went down the stairs and on impulse stuffed it in a survival backpack that was buried under some rubble. If fit in neatly due to the fact that it was the size of two small picture books. I picked up the pistol and held it while I put on the backpack. The nsomething struck me. First, half of my house was crushed, second I never had a pistol of a survival backpack, third I procured those two items via millitary (they gave it two me) and lastly there were three zombies limping around my house. For some reason, they weren't interested in me. One came up to me, and I felt something speak to my mind. It didn't actually speak, but a felt a sense of curiostity to me. It was wondering what I was. Doing the zombie equivilent of a shrug, it moved past me and kept limping on. I stepped through the rubble and went outside.

As I came into the street, I noticed who quiet the place was. Aside from zombies, nothing was moving. Even the air was still. There were occasional caches of equipment, which I marked on a map, but the world was silent. When I went to my house to turn on the computer, it worked. On the news page, there was an article about how the millitary and the millitia are holding power plants, water treatment plants, farms, and all the essential buildings. That explained how my computer was working. I caught up with the state of the world and realized that the human race wasn't going to launch an offensive any time soon. Raiders had been annihalated by both zombies and the millitary/millitia. That explained how all my stuff was still here. What disturbed me the most was the date of the articles. 5-31-12. I had missed a little more than five years of my life. I was officially an adult. But five years of my life was gone. Truly gone. My last memory was on 5-22-08. My mind showed me what happened.

"Men! Keep firing! Protect the kids!" yelled a soldier. The survivors from my school followed me to my house, where luck smilled on us and sent soldiers. A group of Strykers was coming, but the soldiers had to hold the line. I looked around. Less than 40 kids.
"The Strykers are here!"
"Everyone move!"
"Riley's down!" Riley. She was a girl I knew who I think had a crush on one of my friends.
"No! Erin get back!" Erin in turn was one of Rileys close friends. I think.
"Let me go!" Yup. She was her friend alright.
"Everyone clear!"
"Let's move!"