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The Organisation
Nexus Oblivion's
The Organisation
[Author] Nexus_Oblivion
[Status] 5% Done
[Short Description] Nathan lives in the fictional city of Amberton somewhere in the USA, where an outbreak causes the inhabitance to turn into shambling zombies. He also discovers that he now possesses a power no human has actually been proven to have...what is it? Well, read the story to find out.
[Rating] PG13 for now (major violence, language)
[Easter Eggs] I've thrown some easter eggs into my story. For those who don't know what an easter egg is it's a hidden joke/reference that you may not notice or an in-joke only some will get.
Eg. The first chapter of my story is called "Before the start of the End" which is a little similar to Dominickmagas story "The Beginning of the End". . . Okay, bad example.
(It's pretty **** right now, does't really flow properly but I'm working on it)
July 13th 2009
Time: 8:35AM
CHAPTER 1 -Before the Start of the End-
So begins my day...
I take a sip from my cup of coffee, the smell of it alone awakens me, as I stare into the rear view mirror. Your tie looks fine. Stepping out of my car and grabbing my briefcase with my free hand, I start my new job.
Walking towards the building, I notice dull clouds obscuring the usual warm sun that would shine every morning. Perhaps it's a sign. I've been fired before, and every time, those dull clouds hang over me like a noose. I take several more steps towards my new work before hearing the sound of a car door slamming and someone locking their car. A second later, I'm joined by a white male in a grey suit. His hair's gelled down and back, and his blue eyes look down on you as if you're inferior. I've seen too many people like that in my lifetime to no longer be effected.
"Nice suit!" he said, scanning my attire. "What is that? Peter Jackson?"
"No," I said with smile, "it’s Rodger David." It was a wise choice to wear a pinstriped suit. The blue accents my eyes. "Your suit looks pretty good too."
"Haha thanks, I’m Marshal by the way." He stops walking to extend his hand.
I place my briefcase down and firmly shake it. "Hello Marshal, I’m Nathan."
We walk together towards the building, casually making conversation. He tells me that he’s been working here ever since the business first started but he wouldn't reveal his position within the company, which was odd. I suspect he's either one of the senior partners or a named one. I look at the my new place of employment. From the outside it appears the same as all the other buildings in the city: a modern style, dark granite building complete with revolving doors. We enter inside, big gold letters in front of the reception desk strung together form the name of the company founders: ‘Pierce, Green and Reddson’, and under it in smaller gold letters, ‘Law Firm’.
"Ah you must be Nathan Thompson," the receptionist said out loud. "And I see you’ve already met Mr Marshal Green."
"He has, he has," Marshal said with a chuckle. So, Marshal Green’s a named partner, eh? I give myself a week until I'm fired.
"Well, perhaps I should make like a good employee and get straight to work then?" I said, smiling.
They both laughed before Marshal made his way into the nearby elevator while I stayed behind.
"The guys a ********, isn’t he?" I asked the receptionist.
"Uh, wa." Her jaw dropped as she tried to comprehend why I would say such a thing. "I don’t think Mr Green would like to be spoken about like that."
"Well consider me two-faced. In front of partners, I’ll act like the nice funny schmuck who wants to impress the boss, but in front of everyone else, I’ll be my myself."
"I really think you shouldn't have said that though. . . he’s a named partner."
"Like I give a **** Ms. . . ?"
"It’s Lisa Morali."
"Well Ms Morali, it’s up to you then. You can tell Mr Green I said he’s a ******** or you can go out on a date with me. Your choice." I give myself four days.
She smiled. Okay, maybe five days until I'm fired. "Mr Thompson, acting like a show off ******* won’t get into my pants any faster."
"So what will?" I asked with a raised eyebrow and a sly smile. I give myself two days until I'm fired.
Once again her jaw dropped. "Uh no, what I meant was..."
"What I think you meant, and correct me if I’m wrong was: ‘I haven’t had sex, or at least haven’t had orgasmic sex in a long time’, now the question becomes: do you want to go out on a date with me, and then have orgasmic sex?"
"No Nathan," Lisa laughed. "I do not want to go out with you or have orgasmic sex, okay?"
"Damn," I said cooly. "Alright then Lisa, I’ll head to work and I’ll see you tomorrow okay? Hopefully you’ll change your mind by then. Take care."
She blushed slightly and then waved me good bye.
I'll be surprised if I make it through the day before being fired.
I reached the elevator and pressed the button for the 20th floor. By 7:50PM I’ve finished my career with the law firm, and by 8:23PM I’ve arrived at the entrance of my apartment.
Hehe, 'Such is Life'.
July 13th 2009
Time: 8:23PM
Chapter 2 -Unexpected Awakening-
Reaching into my right pocket, I pulled out my set of keys and opened my apartment door. From here, I have the kitchen on the right; the living room through a door on the left, which then leads to the bedroom; and the bathroom is right next to the kitchen that also connects with my bedroom.
Heading for the kitchen, I placed my briefcase on the small dining table and opened the cupboard. There's a row of canned food on the bottom shelf and stacked plates on top. I grabbed a can of minestrone soup and poured into a bowl. I set it to heat in the microwave for two minutes, and in the meantime, I switched my suit for more comfortable urban camo, cargo pants and a black shirt. The beeping of the microwave signalled my stomach to grumble. I head back and took the bowl before sitting on the sofa in the living room. I turned on the TV just in time to see 2 and Half Men begin. Between watching Charlie flirting with his soon-to-be sister and eating my minestrone soup, my mobile phone rings. I picked it up and answered without even checking caller ID.
"Hello?" I said, still transfixed on the show.
"Hey Nath, It’s me," a female voice said.
"Oh hey Heather, how’s your new apartment?"
"It's good," she chuckled. "You watchin 2 and Half Men?"
"Heh, yeah I am."
"Me too! Anyway, can you visit me tomorrow?"
"Of course I can. I’ll come over around 10ish, depending on traffic."
"What? Nathan Thompson, do not skip work for me. Visit me after work."
"Heather, I love you." It was a lie. It's to easy for me to do it. "Would you rather I come sooner than later?" We both laughed. "You know what I meant."
"I know. Alright fine, I’ll see you around 10ish. Remember it’s in Washington Street."
"Apartment 21, floor 3?"
She laughed. "Yes, I’ll see you there. Love you Nathan."
"Love you too, Heather."
I hung up and looked at the photo of us on the coffee table in front of me. Heather sweet Heather. She’s two years younger than me and reminds me of that female celebrity with the Russian last name. Never tell her, your only with her because of her looks. I go back to watching 2 and Half Men, followed by a funny Robot Chicken Marathon. By 12AM the marathon's over and I've cleaned and packed away the bowl. I tiredly walked towards my bedroom and collapsed unto my bed, immediately falling asleep. After some time, I dreamed.
"Oh my God, Greg!" a female voice said. Her voice sounded distant, yet somehow nearby. It's the voice of my next door neighbor, Sally. Everything in my dream is pitch black, and only her voice is here. Wait, what the hell? Isn’t Greg her husband? I tried to ignore her and attempted to dream about something interesting. Usually I'm in control of my dreams, but it seems that her voice isn't going anywhere. Maybe I’m half awake and I can hear her through the wall. But it’s soundproof, what’s going on? I continued pushing her voice out of my head.
"Oh my God, Greg," Sally repeated, only this time sounding more faint. I could barely hear her now. I thought it was working, so I kept on trying to push her voice away but I could still hear her. I finally decided to concentrate on her voice. Or more specifically, the apartment next door where she lives with Greg. This is one ****** up dream.
"I don’t want to tell her some guy bit me," I heard a male voice say. It sounded a lot more clear this time. It was as if Greg was speaking right next to me.
"I should ask him what happened," Sally said with equal clarity. Nothing but brief silence followed.
"Just tell her your okay," Greg said suddenly. None of this makes sense! This dream's becoming weird. I don't know what's happening. I never dreamed like this before.
"He’s lying to me," Sally said. "I should get the ambulance." There’s another period of silence.
"Wha. . . is. . . hap. . . me? GET. . . GUN," Greg uttered brokenly. More silence.
"Oh my God gun? he wants the gun?" Sally asked herself. Now there's a long strech of silence.
"Kill. . . self," Greg slowly said.
"GREG!!!" Sally shouted out loud.
I heard the sound of a gunshot going off somewhere nearby. My eyes instantly opened, adrenaline coursing through me.
Was it really a dream?
July 14th 2009
Time: Early Morning
Chapter 3 -Unexpected Surprises-
I quickly got out of bed. That dream was too weird even by dream standards. If what happened was real, and that gunshot is somehow connected to it, I must be some kind of psychic. I rushed out of the front door into the hallway. I saw Frank and Michael in the corridor. It seemed they were looking for the source of the noise too. They both lived somewhere around this apartment complex.
"I heard a gunshot nearby," Frank said. I don't really know much about Frank except that he's the resident tough guy every time someone has a problem. He was wearing a white tank top and red shorts.
"Where did it come from?" Michael asked. In constrast to what Frank wore, Michael was in a black hoodie with matching khakis.
"I think it came from Sal and Greg’s place," I said. I hope I’m wrong. I ran to their door and knocked loudly. "Sally, Greg? Is everything alright?" Frank and Michael joined me by the door.
"Please help us!" I heard Sally shout.
I turned the doorknob and the three of us entered inside.
"What the ****?" Michael remarked.
I looked down at Sally, clutching Greg who was convulsing with blood pouring out of his mouth. I saw a handgun laying beside Greg's right hand, too.
"Please help," she pleaded.
"What happened?" Frank asked, kneeling down beside Sally. He slid the gun away as he tried to hold Greg down. "It's okay Sally, I got it covered."
"I don’t know what happened," Sally said, before standing up and crying. "He came in here with his hand wrapped in tissues. I asked what happened and he said he cut himself but I knew he was lying."
"It looks like someone bit him," Frank pointed out. The tissues slipped from Greg’s hand as he continuously convulsioned; it revealed a bite mark on his palm that looked like it came from a human. "Where was he?" Frank asked.
"He came home from work just now," she sobbed, "he wanted a gun and I gave it to him. He tried to shoot himself but he, he started shaking when he pulled the trigger," Tears were streaming down like a waterfall.
"Why would you give him a gun anyway?" Michael questioned. Just then, Greg stopped moving.
"Michael, call the ambulance," I said. We should have called sooner, damn it. He pulled out his cellphone and walked out into the hallway.
"Is. . . he. . . dead?" Sally asked. Her voice broke as she stepped closer, and boogers were leaking out of her nose as she sniffled. Frank placed his fingertips on Greg’s neck. He nodded. Sally collapsed on her knees, crying even more.
"Nathan, the ambulance can’t make it," Michael said as stepped back in the apartment. "They said there’s a lot of calls similar to this." Similar? Before I can inquire, Greg's eyes opened and he moaned loudly.
"Greg?" Frank grabbed him by the shoulders. "Buddy, your alive! but your pul---" Before Frank could say another word, Greg bit Frank’s arm and rolled on top him, pinning Frank underneath him. He began tearing into Frank’s throat. Frank screamed in agony. I stood there, frozen, watching the horror take place. A shake from Michael snapped me out of it.
"Nathan do something!" he yelled, frightened.
I immediately searched around the apartment, spotting the handgun on the floor. It was laying beside Frank's side Greg stood up and moaned. . . before looking right at me. His eyes appeared completely white, and yet I knew he was staring at me. Holy ****. I glanced back at the gun and realized that I would have to get through Greg to reach it. I ran towards him as he outstretched his arms. I delivered a full shoulder tackle to his torso and sent him violently crashing down. I grabbed the gun and turned back to face Greg who was still on the floor, writhing.
"Michael, get Sally out of here," I ordered. He ran towards Sally who was flailing as she was dragged out of the apartment. I followed, closing the door behind us.We were back outside the corridor now.
"Greg’s a ******* zombie man," Michael panted, letting go of Sally. "I ******* know it." I looked at Sally who slid down the wall, her arms wrapped around her legs.
"Sal, you alright?" I asked.
'There’s no use living,' I heard Sally’s voice say even though she hadn't spoken. What doe- Without warning, she grabbed the gun from my hand and shot herself under her chin; brain and blood splattered on both Michael and I. We stood there, staring at Sally’s dead body.
"Mich-Mich-Michael...." I stuttered. "G-Get your things. Were ********* leaving."
He ran without saying a word. I grabbed the gun back from Sally’s dead hand, and went into my apartment. First, that ******* dream that didn’t make sense. . . then Sally says ‘there’s no point living’ even when the words haven’t come out of her mouth before she commits suicide. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out you can read minds. I walked into my bathroom and washed remnants of Sally away from my face. Nathan, you read her mind. . .Your telepathic. I entered my bedroom and pulled out the duffel bag from under my bed, along with my backpack. How in the world can I read minds? I haven't been anywhere near radioactive waste. I haven't been in any experiments. And I know I'm no longer dreaming. I decided to test out if I really could read minds. I concentrated on Michael. If I remembered right, his apartment was at the end of the corridor.
"Alright Michael," I heard him think. "Remember your survival plan: get your first aid kit and then the canned foods." That’s a good idea. I grabbed the bags and headed into the kitchen. I opened the cupboards and took out all the canned food I had: fourteen cans of various soups. I placed them all in my backpack and then went into the bathroom. I opened the medicine cabinet and realized I only had a bottle of painkillers, two boxes of band aids, and a 750ml Isopropyl Alcohol solution. Rubbing alcohol to us lay folk. None-the-less, I stuffed them all in my backpack. Using the duffel bag, I packed all the spare clothes I could find, before changing my current clothing. This time I was wore dark grey jeans, a black long sleeve shirt and my only other pair of shoes, my Converse. Having packed everything, I donned the backpack, carried the duffel bag with my left hand, and grabbed the handgun with the other.
"Nathan?" A male voice called out. The voice didn't carry well in my apartment.
"Michael, is that you?" I asked, making my way out of the bedroom.
"Yeah. You ready to go?" he asked. I took one last look at my apartment before we left. I spotted my cellphone on the coffee table and took it with me.
"Alright, let’s go." I looked at Michael and noticed that he seemed prepared for this. Prepared for what, exactly, I don't know. He was no longer wearing his khakis or a hoodie, instead, he wore blue jeans and a thick leather jacket. He had a medium sized backpack strapped behind him, filled with what I assume were the canned food he thought about, and he was also carrying a large semi-circular bag in his hand with a first aid symbol on it. "We’ll take my car," I said, as we descended the staircase. Our footsteps echoed around us. "Hopefully no-one gets in our way."
"Sure thing," he said. "Did you ever think something like this would happen?" What was he talking about?
"Of course not," I said. "Why would I?" Wait, was he talking about zombies?
"Well, I knew something like this would happen but I'm wonder why no one else seems to be panicking," he remarked.
"It could just possibly be the first signs of zombies," I said.
"That’s right, this may be a class 2 outbreak."
I gave him an inquisitive look. I raised an eyebrow. "Class 2?"
"It’s on this website called 'Zombie Survival Defense Wiki'. A Cla---"
"You know what? Explain later when we find shelter. For now, let’s just head for my car." We quickly stepped down the stairs until we reach the ground floor. From here, there were two doors. One leading into the lobby, and one into the car park.
"Shouldn’t we warn everybody about the zombies?" Michael asked.
"Michael, think about this," I said to him, regretting the anger in my voice. "Do you honestly think that everyone would buy zombies are here in Amberton?"
"I know bu---"
"Not to mention Sally's dead in the hallway."
"I know, but we have to at least warn them," he said, looking at his shoes.
I caught a glimpse of a red indent behind Michael as he swayed side to side. I walked up to it and realized it was a Fire Emergency Alarm. 'In case of fire, break.' I elbowed it and pressed the button behind the broken glass. A spit second later, a fire bell rang throughout the building. "That should be a big wake up call don’t you think?" I smiled. Michael opened the door to the car park and we walked through. Only the eerie noise of the fire alarm filled the car park.
Just then, my phone rang, and I quickly answer it.
"Hello?"
"Nathan," a woman sobbed. "Please help me."
"Heather is that you? I’ll come and get you, stay where you are."
She continued to cry. "Please hurry thei---" She was cut off. What the ****! I checked the phone and realized the reception was down.
"Michael, I have to make a detour." I said to him. "I’m heading to Heather’s place. I’ll understand if you want to leave."
"Are you crazy?" Michael retorted. "If I went solo, I’ll die before this thing hits Class 3. Let’s find your girl and get the **** out of here!" We jogged to my Mitsubishi Lancer and placed all the bags in the back seat. I guess when I said I was with her just because of her looks. I was lying. . . I really do love her.
"How far is Heather’s place?" Michael asked as he clipped the seat belt in.
"About an hour's drive," I answered, putting on my seat belt too. "Maybe less since it’s early in the morning."
I put the keys in the ignition and drove out of the car park.
July 14th 2009
Time: 4:14AM
Chapter 4: -The Informative Trip-
I turned on the radio and listened to a radio station delivering a message to its listeners.
"St.Hilda hospital has been overrun by bio terrorists---" Michael laughed. I turned the volume up. "---the following outlying areas around the hospital have been designated as Danger Zones: the Washington, Sloan, Rigidifield, and Haverford Districts are danger zones. All residents in such areas must evacuate immediately and head for police checkpoints around the other safe districts. Repeat: the Washington, Sloan, Rigidified, and Haverford Districts are Danger Zones. Evacuate immediately and head for police checkpoints in the other districts."
"****" I said angrily, pounding the steering wheel. "She lives in Washington. Listen if you seriously---"
"Nathan," Michael interrupted, "I’m staying. And besides, I brought these." He reached for his backpack, fumbled for a while, before pulling out two handguns. "I’ve got 4 spare mags we can share."
"Michael, at least tell me you have some training with those things." I remarked. They were Beretta 92s. I assumed they had 15 rounds per magazine.
"Well, I spent all my time at the firing range after my classes," he said. "15 rounds in each magazine. Should do us good." As long he brought something.
"That’s good, Michael" I said. "We’re heading into the Sloan district before we reach Washington, it’s a faster route." I tried to see if I could read Heather’s mind from here. I concentrated hard on Heather's apartment and Heather herself but unfortunately, I got nothing. I guess this new power has range limitations.
Along the way, I noticed police cars driving past us with megaphones blaring evacuation announcements. There were also officers on foot, entering buildings and knocking on doors. Several people were already evacuating their homes and were being escorted by police. It was inevitable that a police officer would eventually stop us, and sure enough, we were.
"You two fellas heard? We’re evacuation all civilians," he told us in a gruff voice. "Turn around and head for any hotel’s. We’re using them as safe havens."
"We can’t officer" I said, my anger slowly rising with each passing second. "My girlfriend's in the Washington Di---"
"Washington’s classified as a Danger Zone, Sir." I could tell he lost his patience. I did too. "You must get to a hotel, now get going or el---"
I couldn’t waste anymore time. I pressed hard on the pedal, the tires screeching, as we left the officer to curse behind us.
"Haha, what a rush!" Michael said.
We soon arrived at the border of Sloan district. It wasn’t obvious at first but the more I drove, the more carnage I witnessed. Michael was looking pretty green in the face. I noticed zombies trying to claw their way into buildings and some had even managed to break in. Michael pointed at a zombie who managed to grab a hold of a woman and tore into her throat. I concentrated my mind on the woman in the blood stained pajamas.
"Why?" a female voice echoed in my head. "Ke---" I tried to concentrate again but nothing. Guess the dead think no more.
I stepped harder on the accelerator and took a right turn into the Washington District.
July 14th 2009
Time: 5: 22AM
Chapter 5: -You Know You're Just a Little Too Late-
We arrived at the apartment complex where Heather lived. Several zombies were aimlessly roaming about nearby. They didn’t seem to notice our car stopping.
"This is the plan," I whispered to Michael. "I’ll take the lead and you watch my back. We sneak into Heather’s apartment, once we get her, we pack any food she has and head back to the car." He bobbed his head and handed me a Beretta and 2 magazines. "Take your First Aid Bag, just in case we need it."
I quietly opened the car door and stepped outside. The zombies still didn't see us. I signaled Michael to come out. I looked towards the apartment's entrance and realized that there were already zombies inside the building. The glass doors had been shattered, paving the floor with broken glass, and bloody hand-prints were smudged around. I concentrated and tried to see if I could read Heather’s mind from where I was standing.
"Everything’s going to be fine, everything’s going to be fine." There's a was a quick pause where she said nothing. "Please stop banging the door," I heard her think. She’s still alive! Michael had already slung the F.A.K over his shoulder like a sports bag.
"Michael, change of plans," I whispered loudly. "Kill any zombie that gets near us." He nodded and we began running towards the entrance of the building.
Our footsteps, and the zippers clanging on Michael's bag, brought the attention of the zombies. They began moaning and shuffling towards us with arms outstretched. Michael was the first to shoot, taking out three of them. Good shooter. I took aim, and kill the zombie shuffling in front of me; one in the leg then one in the head. We enter the apartment complex.
"Stairs or elevator?" Michael asked me. He fired two more shots and downed two more zombies. The sound of gunfire would definitely bring more of these things to us. I regretted this decision of going all out. But I had to save her.
"We’ll take the stairs." I replied. I don't want to take the chance of the elevator losing power.
We ran up three flights of stairs and finally reached the 3rd floor. Zombies had already been here. Judging from the signs of ripped flesh, and the trails of blood on the floors and walls, it seemed that this place was effected hours before my apartment building. I rushed to apartment 21 with Michael following suite. Two zombies were clawing at her door, moaning. I shot them both in the head. I began knocking on the door. "Heather! It’s Nathan!" Heather!" I placed my head on the door and concentrated on Heather. But I heard nothing. Please no. . . I kicked the door to gain entry. I had keys but they were back at my place. After the 4th attempt, the hinges gave way and I entered the apartment. I almost collapsed.
It was empty.
July 14th 2009
Time: 5:37AM
Chapter 6 -An Escape to Remember-
I looked around the apartment. The kitchen, living room, bedroom. Nothing was out of the ordinary. There was no signs of a struggle or blood. I made my way to the suite and there she was; lying on the floor with scattered pills and a bottle next to her. I got on my knees and felt her pulse. She was still alive. I picked up the bottle and realized Heather ingested sleeping pills. She tried to overdose on sleeping pills.
"Heather! Wake up, come on, wake up!" I said, slapping her cheeks. "Michael! Give me a hand!" I heard rushed footsteps and saw Michael at the doorway.
"Holy ****, what happened?" Michael asked as he took off his First Aid Bag.
"Heather’s taken a huge amount of sleeping pills," I said. "Check if there's something to wake her up." We’re interrupted by loud moans somewhere inside the apartment. **** why did we make so much noise? "Michael, try whatever you can to wake her up. I’ll take care of the zombies in the apartment."
"Alright go. I’ll try my best" he said, clearly doubting himself.
I cautiously exited the bedroom and discovered three zombies in the living room. To my dismay, the room wasn't big enough for me to maneuver around in. I quickly shot the zombie closest to me in the knee and as it fell down, I shoot it in the head. The other zombies began lurching towards me and I fired a round squarely in between its eyes and did the same for the second. I spotted a small red blob making it’s way closer to me. It was as if time slowed down. I had no time to react and the blob of red blood entered my mouth. I felt the blood on my tongue and instantly started spitting.
"Nathan I got her aroun---"
I turned and see Michael with a shocked expression on his face. "Nathan what happened?"
"Got some blood in mouth, I spat it out though" I said, wiping my mouth.
I concentrated my mind on Michael.
"****, he could turn any minute," I heard Michael think.
"Nathan, wait a sec. Let me grab something," he said. I continued to read his mind as he stepped back in the bedroom. 'I seriously hope he’s not infected. Please let this mouth wash work.' He came back with mouth wash in his hand. "I think you should use this" he told me, handing the bottle over. "Heather’s woken up but she’s still a little disoriented. Thank God for the manual in the bag."
I thanked him and rinsed my mouth out right where I stood. I ran back to Heather who was now leaning on the bathtub like she had been heavily drinking.
"Heather you made it," I said, gently stroking the hair away from her face.
"Nath?" she asked faintly. "You came. . . love you." She lost consciousness and fell asleep. I tucked the gun behind my waist and grabbed the First Aid Bag before lifting her up. I struggled to maintain balance as I took her to the kitchen. Michael had already begun taking all the canned food and drinks.
"Nathan, I got whatever I could fit in Heather’s suitcase," he said, pointing to the medium sized suitcase on the table.
"Good," I remarked. "Let’s get the hell out of here. I’ve got your bag with me. I’ll follow you out."
Michael zipped Heather's suitcase shut, and we began our backtrack to the car. We encountered a few zombies along the way but none-the-less, we made it back to the car in one piece. Michael moved the bags from the back seats to one side, while I placed Heather on the opposite side to rest. I took the suitcase full of food and drink from Michael, and threw it in the boot of the car. Before I turned on the engine, I decided it was best if we came up with a plan.
"We can’t stay in Amberton," I told Michael. "It’s only a matter of time before this whole place get’s overrun by zombies."
"Judging by what we’ve seen, this is probably a Class 3 outbreak now," Michael commented. "I say we head for the docks and see if we can find a boat."
"I don’t know how to use a boat. Nor does Heather," I said. "Any other plans?" We remained silent for a moment. I looked around the street and noticed more and more zombies beginning to make their way towards us. "**** it. The docks it is," I said. "We might have to find a place to stay before we get there. The Arlington Library’s a safe bet."
I started the engine and began driving. I checked the the fuel gauge; I still had half a gas tank left. It was more then enough to get us to the library.
The more I drove, the more disastrous the city of Amberton looked. The radio station was stuck on a constant loop, replying the same message over and over again. We entered the Frantelle District which wasn’t deemed a Danger Zone but zombies were roaming everywhere. We were still nowhere near Arlington Library when we chanced upon a young girl tripping over the gutter as zombies approached her. She was wearing a green vest and a jean shirt. Her hair was a curly brown and she looked terrified.
"Michael start shooting," I shouted, screeching the car to a halt in front of the girl. Michael opened the door and began taking potshots at the zombies.
"Kid, get in here!" I demanded, opening the back-seat door where Heather was. The girl jumped into the car, her legs resting on Heather’s thighs as we all immediately drove off.
"Are you alright?" I asked the young girl as I continued driving.
"I’m alright," she said. "I think I scraped my knees when I fell though."
"Well, we're heading for Arlington Library. I’m Nathan and this is Michael. The unconscious woman next to you is my girlfriend, Heather. We’ll patch you up when we get there."
From the rear view mirror, I noticed the girl flinch as Heather’s head slumped on her shoulder. I concentrated on the girl to read her mind while still keeping my eyes on the road.
"Oh God they’re going to rape me," she thought. "Oh God please don’t let them rape me." She began to cry. Michael turned around to face the young girl.
"Wha? What’s wrong?" Michael asked worriedly. "Were they your parents or something?"
"Please," she cried. "Please don’t. Let me go."
"Wh. . . ? What are you talking about?" Michael said. "Is Heather scaring you? Don’t worry she’s sleeping."
She began crying, very loudly.
"Wh...? Nathan do something," Michael told me. I looked around and noticed there were zombies everywhere. Thank god they're not on the bloody road. I quickly glanced back at the crying girl and sighed. Guess I’ll have to handle this while driving.
"Listen, we’re not going to hurt you," I said to the girl. "Normally, I would stop the car and tell you to get out if you don’t trust us. But right now, there’s an assload of zombies outside and leaving you out there is not something I want to do." I concentrated and read her mind again.
"Don’t listen to them, they’ll rape you the moment you let your guard down," she thought. For ****'s sake. Can’t really blame her, though.
"Okay, **** this. We're going to Arlington Library. It’s about 30 minutes away. You can leave when we get there," I said.
Well that shut her up.
TO BE CONTINUED. . .
(Got a bunch more **** to do. Just re-edited what I could, probably missed some things. Hopefully it's a little more easier to read. Legal disclaimer's just for show. But I swear, I will bring the Law's Legal Wrath down for the lulz if I have too. =P)
---------Legal/Disclaimer-----------
This is the sole property of Nexus_Oblivion. This may *not* be reproduced under any circumstances. It may *not* be placed on any web site or otherwise distributed publicly without advance written permission from the author ('Michael' a.k.a 'Nexus_Oblivion'). Use of this story on any other web site or as a part of any public display is strictly prohibited, and a violation of copyright. Do *not* copy or alter the content slightly from this story, and do *not* present it as your own. The creation of this story took a lot of time, please respect that.
This is the only site that is allowed to host my story:
www.zombiesurvivalwiki.com
All legal disputes concerning this story will result in legal action.
All characters in this story that have names similar to those either living or dead or from fiction are purely coincidental, unless obviously obvious.
This story and its contents is copyright 2009 Nexus_Oblivion
----------------------------
"Kick a zed, to make sure it's dead. Then kill the guy when he gets bit."
The Organisation
[Author] Nexus_Oblivion
[Status] 5% Done
[Short Description] Nathan lives in the fictional city of Amberton somewhere in the USA, where an outbreak causes the inhabitance to turn into shambling zombies. He also discovers that he now possesses a power no human has actually been proven to have...what is it? Well, read the story to find out.
[Rating] PG13 for now (major violence, language)
[Easter Eggs] I've thrown some easter eggs into my story. For those who don't know what an easter egg is it's a hidden joke/reference that you may not notice or an in-joke only some will get.
Eg. The first chapter of my story is called "Before the start of the End" which is a little similar to Dominickmagas story "The Beginning of the End". . . Okay, bad example.
(It's pretty **** right now, does't really flow properly but I'm working on it)
July 13th 2009
Time: 8:35AM
CHAPTER 1 -Before the Start of the End-
So begins my day...
I take a sip from my cup of coffee, the smell of it alone awakens me, as I stare into the rear view mirror. Your tie looks fine. Stepping out of my car and grabbing my briefcase with my free hand, I start my new job.
Walking towards the building, I notice dull clouds obscuring the usual warm sun that would shine every morning. Perhaps it's a sign. I've been fired before, and every time, those dull clouds hang over me like a noose. I take several more steps towards my new work before hearing the sound of a car door slamming and someone locking their car. A second later, I'm joined by a white male in a grey suit. His hair's gelled down and back, and his blue eyes look down on you as if you're inferior. I've seen too many people like that in my lifetime to no longer be effected.
"Nice suit!" he said, scanning my attire. "What is that? Peter Jackson?"
"No," I said with smile, "it’s Rodger David." It was a wise choice to wear a pinstriped suit. The blue accents my eyes. "Your suit looks pretty good too."
"Haha thanks, I’m Marshal by the way." He stops walking to extend his hand.
I place my briefcase down and firmly shake it. "Hello Marshal, I’m Nathan."
We walk together towards the building, casually making conversation. He tells me that he’s been working here ever since the business first started but he wouldn't reveal his position within the company, which was odd. I suspect he's either one of the senior partners or a named one. I look at the my new place of employment. From the outside it appears the same as all the other buildings in the city: a modern style, dark granite building complete with revolving doors. We enter inside, big gold letters in front of the reception desk strung together form the name of the company founders: ‘Pierce, Green and Reddson’, and under it in smaller gold letters, ‘Law Firm’.
"Ah you must be Nathan Thompson," the receptionist said out loud. "And I see you’ve already met Mr Marshal Green."
"He has, he has," Marshal said with a chuckle. So, Marshal Green’s a named partner, eh? I give myself a week until I'm fired.
"Well, perhaps I should make like a good employee and get straight to work then?" I said, smiling.
They both laughed before Marshal made his way into the nearby elevator while I stayed behind.
"The guys a ********, isn’t he?" I asked the receptionist.
"Uh, wa." Her jaw dropped as she tried to comprehend why I would say such a thing. "I don’t think Mr Green would like to be spoken about like that."
"Well consider me two-faced. In front of partners, I’ll act like the nice funny schmuck who wants to impress the boss, but in front of everyone else, I’ll be my myself."
"I really think you shouldn't have said that though. . . he’s a named partner."
"Like I give a **** Ms. . . ?"
"It’s Lisa Morali."
"Well Ms Morali, it’s up to you then. You can tell Mr Green I said he’s a ******** or you can go out on a date with me. Your choice." I give myself four days.
She smiled. Okay, maybe five days until I'm fired. "Mr Thompson, acting like a show off ******* won’t get into my pants any faster."
"So what will?" I asked with a raised eyebrow and a sly smile. I give myself two days until I'm fired.
Once again her jaw dropped. "Uh no, what I meant was..."
"What I think you meant, and correct me if I’m wrong was: ‘I haven’t had sex, or at least haven’t had orgasmic sex in a long time’, now the question becomes: do you want to go out on a date with me, and then have orgasmic sex?"
"No Nathan," Lisa laughed. "I do not want to go out with you or have orgasmic sex, okay?"
"Damn," I said cooly. "Alright then Lisa, I’ll head to work and I’ll see you tomorrow okay? Hopefully you’ll change your mind by then. Take care."
She blushed slightly and then waved me good bye.
I'll be surprised if I make it through the day before being fired.
I reached the elevator and pressed the button for the 20th floor. By 7:50PM I’ve finished my career with the law firm, and by 8:23PM I’ve arrived at the entrance of my apartment.
Hehe, 'Such is Life'.
July 13th 2009
Time: 8:23PM
Chapter 2 -Unexpected Awakening-
Reaching into my right pocket, I pulled out my set of keys and opened my apartment door. From here, I have the kitchen on the right; the living room through a door on the left, which then leads to the bedroom; and the bathroom is right next to the kitchen that also connects with my bedroom.
Heading for the kitchen, I placed my briefcase on the small dining table and opened the cupboard. There's a row of canned food on the bottom shelf and stacked plates on top. I grabbed a can of minestrone soup and poured into a bowl. I set it to heat in the microwave for two minutes, and in the meantime, I switched my suit for more comfortable urban camo, cargo pants and a black shirt. The beeping of the microwave signalled my stomach to grumble. I head back and took the bowl before sitting on the sofa in the living room. I turned on the TV just in time to see 2 and Half Men begin. Between watching Charlie flirting with his soon-to-be sister and eating my minestrone soup, my mobile phone rings. I picked it up and answered without even checking caller ID.
"Hello?" I said, still transfixed on the show.
"Hey Nath, It’s me," a female voice said.
"Oh hey Heather, how’s your new apartment?"
"It's good," she chuckled. "You watchin 2 and Half Men?"
"Heh, yeah I am."
"Me too! Anyway, can you visit me tomorrow?"
"Of course I can. I’ll come over around 10ish, depending on traffic."
"What? Nathan Thompson, do not skip work for me. Visit me after work."
"Heather, I love you." It was a lie. It's to easy for me to do it. "Would you rather I come sooner than later?" We both laughed. "You know what I meant."
"I know. Alright fine, I’ll see you around 10ish. Remember it’s in Washington Street."
"Apartment 21, floor 3?"
She laughed. "Yes, I’ll see you there. Love you Nathan."
"Love you too, Heather."
I hung up and looked at the photo of us on the coffee table in front of me. Heather sweet Heather. She’s two years younger than me and reminds me of that female celebrity with the Russian last name. Never tell her, your only with her because of her looks. I go back to watching 2 and Half Men, followed by a funny Robot Chicken Marathon. By 12AM the marathon's over and I've cleaned and packed away the bowl. I tiredly walked towards my bedroom and collapsed unto my bed, immediately falling asleep. After some time, I dreamed.
"Oh my God, Greg!" a female voice said. Her voice sounded distant, yet somehow nearby. It's the voice of my next door neighbor, Sally. Everything in my dream is pitch black, and only her voice is here. Wait, what the hell? Isn’t Greg her husband? I tried to ignore her and attempted to dream about something interesting. Usually I'm in control of my dreams, but it seems that her voice isn't going anywhere. Maybe I’m half awake and I can hear her through the wall. But it’s soundproof, what’s going on? I continued pushing her voice out of my head.
"Oh my God, Greg," Sally repeated, only this time sounding more faint. I could barely hear her now. I thought it was working, so I kept on trying to push her voice away but I could still hear her. I finally decided to concentrate on her voice. Or more specifically, the apartment next door where she lives with Greg. This is one ****** up dream.
"I don’t want to tell her some guy bit me," I heard a male voice say. It sounded a lot more clear this time. It was as if Greg was speaking right next to me.
"I should ask him what happened," Sally said with equal clarity. Nothing but brief silence followed.
"Just tell her your okay," Greg said suddenly. None of this makes sense! This dream's becoming weird. I don't know what's happening. I never dreamed like this before.
"He’s lying to me," Sally said. "I should get the ambulance." There’s another period of silence.
"Wha. . . is. . . hap. . . me? GET. . . GUN," Greg uttered brokenly. More silence.
"Oh my God gun? he wants the gun?" Sally asked herself. Now there's a long strech of silence.
"Kill. . . self," Greg slowly said.
"GREG!!!" Sally shouted out loud.
I heard the sound of a gunshot going off somewhere nearby. My eyes instantly opened, adrenaline coursing through me.
Was it really a dream?
July 14th 2009
Time: Early Morning
Chapter 3 -Unexpected Surprises-
I quickly got out of bed. That dream was too weird even by dream standards. If what happened was real, and that gunshot is somehow connected to it, I must be some kind of psychic. I rushed out of the front door into the hallway. I saw Frank and Michael in the corridor. It seemed they were looking for the source of the noise too. They both lived somewhere around this apartment complex.
"I heard a gunshot nearby," Frank said. I don't really know much about Frank except that he's the resident tough guy every time someone has a problem. He was wearing a white tank top and red shorts.
"Where did it come from?" Michael asked. In constrast to what Frank wore, Michael was in a black hoodie with matching khakis.
"I think it came from Sal and Greg’s place," I said. I hope I’m wrong. I ran to their door and knocked loudly. "Sally, Greg? Is everything alright?" Frank and Michael joined me by the door.
"Please help us!" I heard Sally shout.
I turned the doorknob and the three of us entered inside.
"What the ****?" Michael remarked.
I looked down at Sally, clutching Greg who was convulsing with blood pouring out of his mouth. I saw a handgun laying beside Greg's right hand, too.
"Please help," she pleaded.
"What happened?" Frank asked, kneeling down beside Sally. He slid the gun away as he tried to hold Greg down. "It's okay Sally, I got it covered."
"I don’t know what happened," Sally said, before standing up and crying. "He came in here with his hand wrapped in tissues. I asked what happened and he said he cut himself but I knew he was lying."
"It looks like someone bit him," Frank pointed out. The tissues slipped from Greg’s hand as he continuously convulsioned; it revealed a bite mark on his palm that looked like it came from a human. "Where was he?" Frank asked.
"He came home from work just now," she sobbed, "he wanted a gun and I gave it to him. He tried to shoot himself but he, he started shaking when he pulled the trigger," Tears were streaming down like a waterfall.
"Why would you give him a gun anyway?" Michael questioned. Just then, Greg stopped moving.
"Michael, call the ambulance," I said. We should have called sooner, damn it. He pulled out his cellphone and walked out into the hallway.
"Is. . . he. . . dead?" Sally asked. Her voice broke as she stepped closer, and boogers were leaking out of her nose as she sniffled. Frank placed his fingertips on Greg’s neck. He nodded. Sally collapsed on her knees, crying even more.
"Nathan, the ambulance can’t make it," Michael said as stepped back in the apartment. "They said there’s a lot of calls similar to this." Similar? Before I can inquire, Greg's eyes opened and he moaned loudly.
"Greg?" Frank grabbed him by the shoulders. "Buddy, your alive! but your pul---" Before Frank could say another word, Greg bit Frank’s arm and rolled on top him, pinning Frank underneath him. He began tearing into Frank’s throat. Frank screamed in agony. I stood there, frozen, watching the horror take place. A shake from Michael snapped me out of it.
"Nathan do something!" he yelled, frightened.
I immediately searched around the apartment, spotting the handgun on the floor. It was laying beside Frank's side Greg stood up and moaned. . . before looking right at me. His eyes appeared completely white, and yet I knew he was staring at me. Holy ****. I glanced back at the gun and realized that I would have to get through Greg to reach it. I ran towards him as he outstretched his arms. I delivered a full shoulder tackle to his torso and sent him violently crashing down. I grabbed the gun and turned back to face Greg who was still on the floor, writhing.
"Michael, get Sally out of here," I ordered. He ran towards Sally who was flailing as she was dragged out of the apartment. I followed, closing the door behind us.We were back outside the corridor now.
"Greg’s a ******* zombie man," Michael panted, letting go of Sally. "I ******* know it." I looked at Sally who slid down the wall, her arms wrapped around her legs.
"Sal, you alright?" I asked.
'There’s no use living,' I heard Sally’s voice say even though she hadn't spoken. What doe- Without warning, she grabbed the gun from my hand and shot herself under her chin; brain and blood splattered on both Michael and I. We stood there, staring at Sally’s dead body.
"Mich-Mich-Michael...." I stuttered. "G-Get your things. Were ********* leaving."
He ran without saying a word. I grabbed the gun back from Sally’s dead hand, and went into my apartment. First, that ******* dream that didn’t make sense. . . then Sally says ‘there’s no point living’ even when the words haven’t come out of her mouth before she commits suicide. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out you can read minds. I walked into my bathroom and washed remnants of Sally away from my face. Nathan, you read her mind. . .Your telepathic. I entered my bedroom and pulled out the duffel bag from under my bed, along with my backpack. How in the world can I read minds? I haven't been anywhere near radioactive waste. I haven't been in any experiments. And I know I'm no longer dreaming. I decided to test out if I really could read minds. I concentrated on Michael. If I remembered right, his apartment was at the end of the corridor.
"Alright Michael," I heard him think. "Remember your survival plan: get your first aid kit and then the canned foods." That’s a good idea. I grabbed the bags and headed into the kitchen. I opened the cupboards and took out all the canned food I had: fourteen cans of various soups. I placed them all in my backpack and then went into the bathroom. I opened the medicine cabinet and realized I only had a bottle of painkillers, two boxes of band aids, and a 750ml Isopropyl Alcohol solution. Rubbing alcohol to us lay folk. None-the-less, I stuffed them all in my backpack. Using the duffel bag, I packed all the spare clothes I could find, before changing my current clothing. This time I was wore dark grey jeans, a black long sleeve shirt and my only other pair of shoes, my Converse. Having packed everything, I donned the backpack, carried the duffel bag with my left hand, and grabbed the handgun with the other.
"Nathan?" A male voice called out. The voice didn't carry well in my apartment.
"Michael, is that you?" I asked, making my way out of the bedroom.
"Yeah. You ready to go?" he asked. I took one last look at my apartment before we left. I spotted my cellphone on the coffee table and took it with me.
"Alright, let’s go." I looked at Michael and noticed that he seemed prepared for this. Prepared for what, exactly, I don't know. He was no longer wearing his khakis or a hoodie, instead, he wore blue jeans and a thick leather jacket. He had a medium sized backpack strapped behind him, filled with what I assume were the canned food he thought about, and he was also carrying a large semi-circular bag in his hand with a first aid symbol on it. "We’ll take my car," I said, as we descended the staircase. Our footsteps echoed around us. "Hopefully no-one gets in our way."
"Sure thing," he said. "Did you ever think something like this would happen?" What was he talking about?
"Of course not," I said. "Why would I?" Wait, was he talking about zombies?
"Well, I knew something like this would happen but I'm wonder why no one else seems to be panicking," he remarked.
"It could just possibly be the first signs of zombies," I said.
"That’s right, this may be a class 2 outbreak."
I gave him an inquisitive look. I raised an eyebrow. "Class 2?"
"It’s on this website called 'Zombie Survival Defense Wiki'. A Cla---"
"You know what? Explain later when we find shelter. For now, let’s just head for my car." We quickly stepped down the stairs until we reach the ground floor. From here, there were two doors. One leading into the lobby, and one into the car park.
"Shouldn’t we warn everybody about the zombies?" Michael asked.
"Michael, think about this," I said to him, regretting the anger in my voice. "Do you honestly think that everyone would buy zombies are here in Amberton?"
"I know bu---"
"Not to mention Sally's dead in the hallway."
"I know, but we have to at least warn them," he said, looking at his shoes.
I caught a glimpse of a red indent behind Michael as he swayed side to side. I walked up to it and realized it was a Fire Emergency Alarm. 'In case of fire, break.' I elbowed it and pressed the button behind the broken glass. A spit second later, a fire bell rang throughout the building. "That should be a big wake up call don’t you think?" I smiled. Michael opened the door to the car park and we walked through. Only the eerie noise of the fire alarm filled the car park.
Just then, my phone rang, and I quickly answer it.
"Hello?"
"Nathan," a woman sobbed. "Please help me."
"Heather is that you? I’ll come and get you, stay where you are."
She continued to cry. "Please hurry thei---" She was cut off. What the ****! I checked the phone and realized the reception was down.
"Michael, I have to make a detour." I said to him. "I’m heading to Heather’s place. I’ll understand if you want to leave."
"Are you crazy?" Michael retorted. "If I went solo, I’ll die before this thing hits Class 3. Let’s find your girl and get the **** out of here!" We jogged to my Mitsubishi Lancer and placed all the bags in the back seat. I guess when I said I was with her just because of her looks. I was lying. . . I really do love her.
"How far is Heather’s place?" Michael asked as he clipped the seat belt in.
"About an hour's drive," I answered, putting on my seat belt too. "Maybe less since it’s early in the morning."
I put the keys in the ignition and drove out of the car park.
July 14th 2009
Time: 4:14AM
Chapter 4: -The Informative Trip-
I turned on the radio and listened to a radio station delivering a message to its listeners.
"St.Hilda hospital has been overrun by bio terrorists---" Michael laughed. I turned the volume up. "---the following outlying areas around the hospital have been designated as Danger Zones: the Washington, Sloan, Rigidifield, and Haverford Districts are danger zones. All residents in such areas must evacuate immediately and head for police checkpoints around the other safe districts. Repeat: the Washington, Sloan, Rigidified, and Haverford Districts are Danger Zones. Evacuate immediately and head for police checkpoints in the other districts."
"****" I said angrily, pounding the steering wheel. "She lives in Washington. Listen if you seriously---"
"Nathan," Michael interrupted, "I’m staying. And besides, I brought these." He reached for his backpack, fumbled for a while, before pulling out two handguns. "I’ve got 4 spare mags we can share."
"Michael, at least tell me you have some training with those things." I remarked. They were Beretta 92s. I assumed they had 15 rounds per magazine.
"Well, I spent all my time at the firing range after my classes," he said. "15 rounds in each magazine. Should do us good." As long he brought something.
"That’s good, Michael" I said. "We’re heading into the Sloan district before we reach Washington, it’s a faster route." I tried to see if I could read Heather’s mind from here. I concentrated hard on Heather's apartment and Heather herself but unfortunately, I got nothing. I guess this new power has range limitations.
Along the way, I noticed police cars driving past us with megaphones blaring evacuation announcements. There were also officers on foot, entering buildings and knocking on doors. Several people were already evacuating their homes and were being escorted by police. It was inevitable that a police officer would eventually stop us, and sure enough, we were.
"You two fellas heard? We’re evacuation all civilians," he told us in a gruff voice. "Turn around and head for any hotel’s. We’re using them as safe havens."
"We can’t officer" I said, my anger slowly rising with each passing second. "My girlfriend's in the Washington Di---"
"Washington’s classified as a Danger Zone, Sir." I could tell he lost his patience. I did too. "You must get to a hotel, now get going or el---"
I couldn’t waste anymore time. I pressed hard on the pedal, the tires screeching, as we left the officer to curse behind us.
"Haha, what a rush!" Michael said.
We soon arrived at the border of Sloan district. It wasn’t obvious at first but the more I drove, the more carnage I witnessed. Michael was looking pretty green in the face. I noticed zombies trying to claw their way into buildings and some had even managed to break in. Michael pointed at a zombie who managed to grab a hold of a woman and tore into her throat. I concentrated my mind on the woman in the blood stained pajamas.
"Why?" a female voice echoed in my head. "Ke---" I tried to concentrate again but nothing. Guess the dead think no more.
I stepped harder on the accelerator and took a right turn into the Washington District.
July 14th 2009
Time: 5: 22AM
Chapter 5: -You Know You're Just a Little Too Late-
We arrived at the apartment complex where Heather lived. Several zombies were aimlessly roaming about nearby. They didn’t seem to notice our car stopping.
"This is the plan," I whispered to Michael. "I’ll take the lead and you watch my back. We sneak into Heather’s apartment, once we get her, we pack any food she has and head back to the car." He bobbed his head and handed me a Beretta and 2 magazines. "Take your First Aid Bag, just in case we need it."
I quietly opened the car door and stepped outside. The zombies still didn't see us. I signaled Michael to come out. I looked towards the apartment's entrance and realized that there were already zombies inside the building. The glass doors had been shattered, paving the floor with broken glass, and bloody hand-prints were smudged around. I concentrated and tried to see if I could read Heather’s mind from where I was standing.
"Everything’s going to be fine, everything’s going to be fine." There's a was a quick pause where she said nothing. "Please stop banging the door," I heard her think. She’s still alive! Michael had already slung the F.A.K over his shoulder like a sports bag.
"Michael, change of plans," I whispered loudly. "Kill any zombie that gets near us." He nodded and we began running towards the entrance of the building.
Our footsteps, and the zippers clanging on Michael's bag, brought the attention of the zombies. They began moaning and shuffling towards us with arms outstretched. Michael was the first to shoot, taking out three of them. Good shooter. I took aim, and kill the zombie shuffling in front of me; one in the leg then one in the head. We enter the apartment complex.
"Stairs or elevator?" Michael asked me. He fired two more shots and downed two more zombies. The sound of gunfire would definitely bring more of these things to us. I regretted this decision of going all out. But I had to save her.
"We’ll take the stairs." I replied. I don't want to take the chance of the elevator losing power.
We ran up three flights of stairs and finally reached the 3rd floor. Zombies had already been here. Judging from the signs of ripped flesh, and the trails of blood on the floors and walls, it seemed that this place was effected hours before my apartment building. I rushed to apartment 21 with Michael following suite. Two zombies were clawing at her door, moaning. I shot them both in the head. I began knocking on the door. "Heather! It’s Nathan!" Heather!" I placed my head on the door and concentrated on Heather. But I heard nothing. Please no. . . I kicked the door to gain entry. I had keys but they were back at my place. After the 4th attempt, the hinges gave way and I entered the apartment. I almost collapsed.
It was empty.
July 14th 2009
Time: 5:37AM
Chapter 6 -An Escape to Remember-
I looked around the apartment. The kitchen, living room, bedroom. Nothing was out of the ordinary. There was no signs of a struggle or blood. I made my way to the suite and there she was; lying on the floor with scattered pills and a bottle next to her. I got on my knees and felt her pulse. She was still alive. I picked up the bottle and realized Heather ingested sleeping pills. She tried to overdose on sleeping pills.
"Heather! Wake up, come on, wake up!" I said, slapping her cheeks. "Michael! Give me a hand!" I heard rushed footsteps and saw Michael at the doorway.
"Holy ****, what happened?" Michael asked as he took off his First Aid Bag.
"Heather’s taken a huge amount of sleeping pills," I said. "Check if there's something to wake her up." We’re interrupted by loud moans somewhere inside the apartment. **** why did we make so much noise? "Michael, try whatever you can to wake her up. I’ll take care of the zombies in the apartment."
"Alright go. I’ll try my best" he said, clearly doubting himself.
I cautiously exited the bedroom and discovered three zombies in the living room. To my dismay, the room wasn't big enough for me to maneuver around in. I quickly shot the zombie closest to me in the knee and as it fell down, I shoot it in the head. The other zombies began lurching towards me and I fired a round squarely in between its eyes and did the same for the second. I spotted a small red blob making it’s way closer to me. It was as if time slowed down. I had no time to react and the blob of red blood entered my mouth. I felt the blood on my tongue and instantly started spitting.
"Nathan I got her aroun---"
I turned and see Michael with a shocked expression on his face. "Nathan what happened?"
"Got some blood in mouth, I spat it out though" I said, wiping my mouth.
I concentrated my mind on Michael.
"****, he could turn any minute," I heard Michael think.
"Nathan, wait a sec. Let me grab something," he said. I continued to read his mind as he stepped back in the bedroom. 'I seriously hope he’s not infected. Please let this mouth wash work.' He came back with mouth wash in his hand. "I think you should use this" he told me, handing the bottle over. "Heather’s woken up but she’s still a little disoriented. Thank God for the manual in the bag."
I thanked him and rinsed my mouth out right where I stood. I ran back to Heather who was now leaning on the bathtub like she had been heavily drinking.
"Heather you made it," I said, gently stroking the hair away from her face.
"Nath?" she asked faintly. "You came. . . love you." She lost consciousness and fell asleep. I tucked the gun behind my waist and grabbed the First Aid Bag before lifting her up. I struggled to maintain balance as I took her to the kitchen. Michael had already begun taking all the canned food and drinks.
"Nathan, I got whatever I could fit in Heather’s suitcase," he said, pointing to the medium sized suitcase on the table.
"Good," I remarked. "Let’s get the hell out of here. I’ve got your bag with me. I’ll follow you out."
Michael zipped Heather's suitcase shut, and we began our backtrack to the car. We encountered a few zombies along the way but none-the-less, we made it back to the car in one piece. Michael moved the bags from the back seats to one side, while I placed Heather on the opposite side to rest. I took the suitcase full of food and drink from Michael, and threw it in the boot of the car. Before I turned on the engine, I decided it was best if we came up with a plan.
"We can’t stay in Amberton," I told Michael. "It’s only a matter of time before this whole place get’s overrun by zombies."
"Judging by what we’ve seen, this is probably a Class 3 outbreak now," Michael commented. "I say we head for the docks and see if we can find a boat."
"I don’t know how to use a boat. Nor does Heather," I said. "Any other plans?" We remained silent for a moment. I looked around the street and noticed more and more zombies beginning to make their way towards us. "**** it. The docks it is," I said. "We might have to find a place to stay before we get there. The Arlington Library’s a safe bet."
I started the engine and began driving. I checked the the fuel gauge; I still had half a gas tank left. It was more then enough to get us to the library.
The more I drove, the more disastrous the city of Amberton looked. The radio station was stuck on a constant loop, replying the same message over and over again. We entered the Frantelle District which wasn’t deemed a Danger Zone but zombies were roaming everywhere. We were still nowhere near Arlington Library when we chanced upon a young girl tripping over the gutter as zombies approached her. She was wearing a green vest and a jean shirt. Her hair was a curly brown and she looked terrified.
"Michael start shooting," I shouted, screeching the car to a halt in front of the girl. Michael opened the door and began taking potshots at the zombies.
"Kid, get in here!" I demanded, opening the back-seat door where Heather was. The girl jumped into the car, her legs resting on Heather’s thighs as we all immediately drove off.
"Are you alright?" I asked the young girl as I continued driving.
"I’m alright," she said. "I think I scraped my knees when I fell though."
"Well, we're heading for Arlington Library. I’m Nathan and this is Michael. The unconscious woman next to you is my girlfriend, Heather. We’ll patch you up when we get there."
From the rear view mirror, I noticed the girl flinch as Heather’s head slumped on her shoulder. I concentrated on the girl to read her mind while still keeping my eyes on the road.
"Oh God they’re going to rape me," she thought. "Oh God please don’t let them rape me." She began to cry. Michael turned around to face the young girl.
"Wha? What’s wrong?" Michael asked worriedly. "Were they your parents or something?"
"Please," she cried. "Please don’t. Let me go."
"Wh. . . ? What are you talking about?" Michael said. "Is Heather scaring you? Don’t worry she’s sleeping."
She began crying, very loudly.
"Wh...? Nathan do something," Michael told me. I looked around and noticed there were zombies everywhere. Thank god they're not on the bloody road. I quickly glanced back at the crying girl and sighed. Guess I’ll have to handle this while driving.
"Listen, we’re not going to hurt you," I said to the girl. "Normally, I would stop the car and tell you to get out if you don’t trust us. But right now, there’s an assload of zombies outside and leaving you out there is not something I want to do." I concentrated and read her mind again.
"Don’t listen to them, they’ll rape you the moment you let your guard down," she thought. For ****'s sake. Can’t really blame her, though.
"Okay, **** this. We're going to Arlington Library. It’s about 30 minutes away. You can leave when we get there," I said.
Well that shut her up.
TO BE CONTINUED. . .
(Got a bunch more **** to do. Just re-edited what I could, probably missed some things. Hopefully it's a little more easier to read. Legal disclaimer's just for show. But I swear, I will bring the Law's Legal Wrath down for the lulz if I have too. =P)
---------Legal/Disclaimer-----------
This is the sole property of Nexus_Oblivion. This may *not* be reproduced under any circumstances. It may *not* be placed on any web site or otherwise distributed publicly without advance written permission from the author ('Michael' a.k.a 'Nexus_Oblivion'). Use of this story on any other web site or as a part of any public display is strictly prohibited, and a violation of copyright. Do *not* copy or alter the content slightly from this story, and do *not* present it as your own. The creation of this story took a lot of time, please respect that.
This is the only site that is allowed to host my story:
www.zombiesurvivalwiki.com
All legal disputes concerning this story will result in legal action.
All characters in this story that have names similar to those either living or dead or from fiction are purely coincidental, unless obviously obvious.
This story and its contents is copyright 2009 Nexus_Oblivion
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"Kick a zed, to make sure it's dead. Then kill the guy when he gets bit."
jdi35 |
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