Note that I'm still editing most of the ideas


"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 floorboard 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


Sincerely,
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. Luck had smiled 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 Riley's close friends. I think.
"Let me go!" Yup. She was her friend alright.
"Everyone clear!"
"Let's move!"
"What the-"
"Johnson!" Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Miho go down.
"Damn it," I cursed to myself. I ran over pulled out the Beretta one of the soldiers gave me, and made a lucky shot to the head before the zombie bit her. I helped her up and she started running to the Strykers. I started to follow when-

That was it. I must have gotten knocked out at the end. But there were slight inconsistencies. Why the heck would the soldiers give us their sidearms? Something to do with what the platoon commander said. "Men, we're screwed anyways if you need to draw it, so hand your sidearm and it's ammo to a kid, and hope they shoot straight." My whole life is turning into a bad T.V sitcom now. So what to do now? I could always try to find my old friends, but like Erin said, we were never going to meet again. Yet she could write that fast and prepare and wrap a package in the five minutes it takes to get to my house? The only plausible explanation was that something had happened to the convoy.

Living. Must consume. Living. Living. Must consume the living!

What the- what was that? I felt the sudden urge to consume, to infect, and to purge every last living thing on earth. But why? Did something happen after I got knocked out. Why can I still think. I should be a mindless zombie, not a combination of zombie and human. What happened? Why are there so many inconsistencies? I resolved to find answers to those questions. Something tells me that I should start where I know there are humans. Where the zombies were attacking.

I started to jog and walk to where my instincts led me. They were pretty reliable due the fact I could now hear gunfire in the distance. I held the Beretta in both hands, thumbed the safety, and started to move cautiously. The gunshots got louder and louder. Finally, I rounded a street corner. A small group of zombies shambled quickly to the other side, but I saw them go down by well placed shots. I ran down the street to peek around the corner. Some sort of wall had been set up, and defenders were firing from on top and from gun ports in the wall. The wall itself seemed to be based on concrete and wood, and outside it, various junk materials were added to make it bigger/thicker.

I headed back to my house satisfied that the wall could hold its own. When I turned around, I saw a zombie straight in my face. It stared at me for a second, before shambling off to the wall. Why does that keep happening? Shaking the thought away, I continued home.



THE NEXT DAY

I wasn't worried about the hole in the back of my house since it lead directly to my backyard. However, I decided to go scavenge for things to barricade with. Since it HAD been 5 years, I only visited a few home improvement stores, to do the fact that they were most likely empty. Instead, I gathered materials from abandoned vehicles and debris. The rubble in my house was also a good start. I managed to find a ladder that would reach the top windows, and got to work. I barricaded the windows, then the single door. Once I was finished, and satisfied with the fortifications, I decided to look for ammunition.

Two things struck me. One, I didn't recall sleeping or dreaming. Two, I was not hungry or thirsty. Five years of no food and water, and I was not only alive, but not hungry or thirsty. Like a zombie...

ATTACK!

What th-

There is a hole in the wall! Living! Consume!

Now I am seriously freaked out. I am going to have to listen to this thing all day!

"Hey, what would you do if..." I asked Jordan.
'If what?"
"If....ZOMBIES TOOK OVER THE EARTH!"

Looking back, that was probably NOT the smartest thing I had ever done in my life. I wonder if I have to remember my whole life through flashbacks. I mean, what if I remember being trained to use the toilet? THAT would be embarrassing.