Post by Kenny on May 14, 2012 16:47:05 GMT -6
Chapter 1
Ryan stopped, he was breathing heavily. There was pounding at the door, he could hear pieces of it hitting the floor. He was crouched behind a bench with a .357 revolver. He was inside his basement, being pursued by those… things. Zombies, zombies is what people had been calling them as they resembled the living dead. As Ryan’s rather religious father had said, “death walks and is sweeping across the land. It is coming to cleanse us all.” That is, before his organs had been ripped from his very body. Ryan choked a sob, he remembered very clearly what had happened to his parents. His sister had run away, she was only twelve, no way she would survive on her own. Ryan was confused, couldn’t think straight. Seventeen, he was seventeen, almost eighteen. The wood was hitting the floor more frequently, he had to escape.
Ryan eyed the panel in the ceiling; it was the only other way out. He started frantically stacking boxes, crates and anything he could move and climb. He was beginning his ascent when ‘krak!’ The door had opened. Ryan raised his revolver, aiming at the dead man in the front. At first he didn’t have the guts to do it, but then he assured himself this… man… needed to be killed. Two shots were heard as two holes were made in the zombie. Ryan than leaped the last few steps as he made it to the panel. With some strength he got it to open and saw his fenced backyard.
Screams, pain and other forms of loud noises were heard all around him. Thankfully the yard was safe from the zombies, but the basement wasn’t. Ryan climbed out and knocked the top box over before closing the panel again. He needed to find others, other people he could work with. He holstered the revolver, looking around. It was night, about eleven he guessed. He lived in a small town in Colorado, Boulder. His neighborhood was thin, spacious. A lot of zombies, but he wouldn’t get cornered at least. It was time he left. Only a few zombies were out in the street, he didn’t see any other living people. Ryan opened the gate and walked into the street. His perfect car was waiting for him. The man was very appreciative to have a truck right now, a ford that could go ignoring the undead near him. Ryan hopped in and put in the keys, the engine quickly started up, he was on the road. He decided to head towards the outskirts near the highway. The teenager desperately waited for contact.
Ryan stopped, he was breathing heavily. There was pounding at the door, he could hear pieces of it hitting the floor. He was crouched behind a bench with a .357 revolver. He was inside his basement, being pursued by those… things. Zombies, zombies is what people had been calling them as they resembled the living dead. As Ryan’s rather religious father had said, “death walks and is sweeping across the land. It is coming to cleanse us all.” That is, before his organs had been ripped from his very body. Ryan choked a sob, he remembered very clearly what had happened to his parents. His sister had run away, she was only twelve, no way she would survive on her own. Ryan was confused, couldn’t think straight. Seventeen, he was seventeen, almost eighteen. The wood was hitting the floor more frequently, he had to escape.
Ryan eyed the panel in the ceiling; it was the only other way out. He started frantically stacking boxes, crates and anything he could move and climb. He was beginning his ascent when ‘krak!’ The door had opened. Ryan raised his revolver, aiming at the dead man in the front. At first he didn’t have the guts to do it, but then he assured himself this… man… needed to be killed. Two shots were heard as two holes were made in the zombie. Ryan than leaped the last few steps as he made it to the panel. With some strength he got it to open and saw his fenced backyard.
Screams, pain and other forms of loud noises were heard all around him. Thankfully the yard was safe from the zombies, but the basement wasn’t. Ryan climbed out and knocked the top box over before closing the panel again. He needed to find others, other people he could work with. He holstered the revolver, looking around. It was night, about eleven he guessed. He lived in a small town in Colorado, Boulder. His neighborhood was thin, spacious. A lot of zombies, but he wouldn’t get cornered at least. It was time he left. Only a few zombies were out in the street, he didn’t see any other living people. Ryan opened the gate and walked into the street. His perfect car was waiting for him. The man was very appreciative to have a truck right now, a ford that could go ignoring the undead near him. Ryan hopped in and put in the keys, the engine quickly started up, he was on the road. He decided to head towards the outskirts near the highway. The teenager desperately waited for contact.
