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 This is the prologue and first chapter of my zombie story.

Prologue - Dead

I chewed at my arm, trying to free myself from the metal chain that held me to the roof of the building. I heard the screams, the people being ripped away. My teeth finally started to draw blood. 'Not much longer' I thought. I started to tear at the muscles and flesh on my arm. My teeth hit the bone and I grimaced. I took my mouth away and picked up a blunt stone. I hammered at the bone until it splintered away, leaving a pool of dripping blood. 

I pulled myself to my feet, careful to make sure that the sensitive, chewed off stump didn't touch anything. I stumbled over to the door and opened it. 

I immediately regretted it. In front of me was a crowd of biters, their bloody faces stared at me. They moved forward. I backed away. I was weaponless and weak from the amount of blood I had lost. There was no way I could survive this. 

The first few ran forwards at me and grabbed my limbs. They bit into my raw flesh. My screams did nothing but make them hungrier. I tried to escape. There was no way out. I was going to die. I felt the pain. And then. Nothing.

Chapter One - Taking a stroll

I heard the screams below as I clambered across the rooftops towards an imposing skyscraper ahead. 

I looked behind me, where I had chained the sleeping figure of Thomas Yates to the roof of the building. I saw he had managed to escape his binds. I averted my eyes as I saw a pack of biters tuck into his flesh and tear him apart, limb to limb. His screams echoed across the nearly silent streets of the city. 

I turned my back on him and staggered across the great towers. The intense heat burned my back, baking it, making it feel as if I was cooking in an oven.

I grabbed onto a drain pipe, it reached up into the cloudy sky above. I put my feet against the wall and pulled myself up using my hands.

I reached the top in a matter of minutes. 

I scrambled forwards, taking myself into the shadows of the doorway. I walked through the dark corridors, the weather outside showed high pathetic fallacy - the rain was Torrential, and lightning struck with an echo of thunder. I opened a door and something leaped on top of me. A girl, about the same age as me, seventeen, wielding a flick knife. 

I kicked her off and clambered to my feet. I unholstered my handgun, a desert eagle and aimed it at her.

“****!” She yelled as she dropped her knife. “Don’t hurt me!” 

I lowered my gun. 

“Don’t worry, I’m not gonna hurt you!” I Exclaimed with a reassuring smile.

She smiled meekly, “Thank god for that…” she muttered.

I grinned at her. 

Suddenly something banged downstairs and my eyes shot towards the stairs. I raised my gun. Something scrambled up the stairs. A biter. I shot. Once. Twice. Three times. Four times. Five. Six. Seven. 

The first four pieced the creature’s neck, the next two smashed into its left arm and the last one took impact with its head, splintering it into thirty-seven individual pieces. 

I turned to the girl. “Are you okay?” I enquired.

“Yeah...” She muttered.

“Thats good, whats your name? Mine’s Alexander Levie.”

“Mine is Joanna Smith, but call me Jo.”

I smiled. “Well, what are you doing in here anyway?” I asked.

“This is my house...” She muttered, “Well, it was...”

“Oh...” I replied in a surprised tone of voice.

“It doesn’t matter.” 

“Alright then...” I said curiously, “We should get moving.”

She slung her bag on her back, pocketed her knife and we set off towards the many flights of stairs. We leaped down them three at a time. By the time we reached the bottom the sun had popped out from behind the clouds, causing a rainbow to emerge visible though the cloudy windows on the doors. I pulled the handle. It was locked. I cursed and kicked at it. 

I heard something outside and saw silhouettes appear at the door. 

“Oh christ...” I muttered as I unholstered my handgun, yet again. 

Joanna looked at me, “If the door is locked how did that biter get in?”

“Good point, We should look for a way out.” I replied, “Or a way in” I muttered in a low tone of voice so Joanna couldn’t here me.

I strode off towards an open door and walked though to the lightly raining, sunny world outside. Jo followed me. 

We stepped outside: the small drops of rain splashed onto our skin, the sun shone brightly though the clouds creating a spectacular rainbow. 

I looked around for biters - or other survivors... 

There was no sign of any survivors, and I wish I could have said the same about the biters. 

There were seven of them, with more congregating nearby.

We crept stealthily over to an old, beaten up, black estate car. 

Three of the biters saw us and started running in our direction. I shot three shots, one into each of their skulls. 

I climbed into the divers seat as Jo clambered into the front, passengers seat. I floored the accelerator and their car flew forwards into a horde of biters, scattering them.

The car swerved out of control, flying into a brick wall. I tried to shout the words, “Holy ****!”, but nothing came out of my mouth. There was an explosion. And then. Nothing.

My eyes flicked open and peered out into the gloom. Jo was siting asleep before me, with her auburn brown hair was resting over her tired face. I watched her as she slept. Two minutes past. Three. Four. Five. She opened her eyes. She stretched her arms and yawned noisily. I smiled gently.

“‘Ello sleepy ’ead.” I said cheerly. 

"Good morning mister Johnson." She said cheekily.

I smirked.

“Where are we?” I inquired.

She replied quickly, “In an abandoned warehouse in the suburbs.”

A pain suddenly shot up my spine and throughout my body. “AHHH!” I yelled in a burst of sudden pain, it was like I was being dipped in molten wax and stabbed with 5 foot drawing pins.

“Whats wrong?” Joanna asked quickly as she scrambled to my side.

I stopped screaming; the pain was gone.

“I don’t know...”

“Hello?” Called a faint voice from behind a stack of boxes. I froze. My hand instinctively went towards my gun. I took hold of it, or tried to - it was gone.

I looked up at the figure of a brute-like man and growled.

“On the ground.” He spat.

I noticed a gun holstered nicely on his back, it was an M4 assault rifle, he had a revolver sat nicely at his side. 

“I said,” He growled, reaching for his revolver - it looked like a python, “on the ground.”

I sprung into action and slammed his revolver, which he had placed in his hand, into a large crate that was sat to my left. 

He yelled in fury and plummeted his hand into my cheek, forcing me on the floor. Joanna leapt forward onto the man, hands at his throat, throttling the life out of him. Out of the corner of my eyes I saw the flash of a gunshot. The gun was aimed at Jo. I cried out to her, but it was too late. The gunshot sounded and is sound could be blurry, then that is what happened. 

I stepped forwards, pure rage filled my body and I thumped the man whom Joanna had been strangling to the ground, the force of the impact braking the mans neck. I pulled his M4 off his back as his limp body fell and turned it on his comrade who tried to duck for cover, but was sprayed with a magazine of bullets. His body dropped to the ground. 

I dropped the gun and looked at Joanna. 

“No... No. No.” I said bluntly in a dull tone of voice. 

I dropped to the ground beside her and checked her pulse. A trace of a smile flickered onto my face when I felt the consistent beat of her heart rate. I held her in my ams and lifted her up. I stumbled over to a door and pushed it open with my foot. 

I looked out upon the empty street.

“How is it empty? This isn’t possible. Where are the biters?” I told/asked myself.

I noticed a van, next to it sat a corpse. I frowned. 

“What the heck?” I asked.

The corpse’s hand twitched. I took a step backwards. The corpse pulled itself to it’s feet. The biter grunted and limped forwards towards me. My grip tightened around Jo. 

“Duck.” Said a man’s voice behind me.

I dropped to the round and lay Jo down next to me in the progress. I heard a silenced gunshot pierce the cold british winter air.  I peaked up at our savior, a twenty year old man with a silenced Luger, black hair, green eyes and a beard.

“Hello,” He said in a calm, friendly and welcoming voice.

“Uh, hi.” I said in a reply.

“I’m Oliver,” He started saying, “You are?”

I felt like I could trust him so I told him my name. “Tom.”

“Who is you friend?”


Just on queue she groaned.

“She needs serious medical help!” I blurted out.

“I’ve got some supplies in my van round the corner, can you take her weight?” He asked in a concerned voice.

“Yeah” I replied, picking her up off the grimy tarmac floor.

We walked around the corner, Oliver opened the back of the white van and told me to put Joanna down on a camping matt on the floor.

He told me to keep watch for biters, survivors or both. 

I sat on the roof of the van, wielding an M14 7.62mm rifle that Oliver had given to me since my weapons had been lost in the crash. He had also given me a serrated kitchen knife. While I sat there guard on the empty streets, listening to the distant groans of biters I had time to think. 

I thought about a lot of things. About my decision to chain Terry to that rooftop, how I had spared Joanna and how I had trusted Oliver.

A hand grabbed me and I found myself falling headfirst towards the road. I face planted into the tarmac and yelled out in the pain of the top layer of skin on my face being grazed off. 

My hand flew to my waist, where a my new knife from Oliver was held to me by me belt, as a kind of reaction to the attack. 

I yanked the knife free from it’s place and plunged it deep into the attacker’s forehead. The dead biter dropped to the ground.

“****...” I muttered under my breath reaching for my rifle, which had fallen to ground a few meters from me.

I picked it up and scanned the area for more biters. I was in luck - they were swarming towards the van from all directions, from the main road to dark alleyways which you wouldn’t want to approach even if you weren’t in an apocalypse.

I took aim at a small group who were closer to me than the larger mass of the group. I shot a magazine of rounds into their flanks, picking them off one by one.

Oliver burst out of the van, gun in hand. He turned to me, “What kind of ******** do you think this is?” He asked in a angry voice, “Why didn’t you ******* tell me we were surrounded by the worlds largest supply of biters?!”

“Sorry...” I replied, “I didn’t notice them...”



He turned and shot the whole front three lines of advancing biters to smithereens.

“GO BACK TO HELL YOU BLOODY ********!” He yelled, although I wasn’t sure if it was directed at the undead hordes or me, as he blasted the biters to pieces.

I guess he forgot you have to reload guns. He holstered his luger and leaped into their ranks, pulling a machete off his back. He decapitated all the creatures within standing distance of him, took a step forwards and sliced another in two, down it’s spine. 

He thrust his weapon into the rotting skull of another, let go of it and slammed his fist into another’s face, smashing it off the face of the earth. 

He looked around for his machete as I shot rounds into the undead flanks. 

‘Tic tic’ Went my gun as it ran out of ammo. 

“****!” I yelled out in surprise as the horde of biters burst into flames.

I turned to see Jo with a molotov cocktail and a lighter in her hands.

She lit the fuse on the molotov cocktail and throw it into the crowd, quickly dispersing the majority of biters.

I smiled and laughed out in joy.

“Get in the van.” Said Oliver, very dully.

I turned to look at what he was aiming at with his luger, which he had reloaded whilst Joanna had been busy burning the biters to destruction. 

Biters were swarming out off a side alley, coming straight at us. After that I didn’t question what he had said. 

We got into the van, me in the passenger seat, Oliver driving and Jo in the back.

Oli put his foot on the accelerator and the car drove forwards.

“We’re low on ammo - we’ve got enough for about two more days.” He said, addressing me. 

“What can we do about it?” I asked in turn.

“Well, there is an army base near here where we can stock on ammo and other supplies.”

“Lets go then.”