[Pandora]

Part One: Waking
Well. The house is musty. Which house is the house? Where am I? "Ok, lets start at the beginning." My name is Josh, and I have just regained consciousness. Why was I knocked out? I can't remember, but it'll come to me, things always do with time. Anyways, I seem to be in some sort of Old Ladies' House, old furniture, musty book cases, that sort of thing. What day is it? I remember leaving my dad's house, although I can't remember why, and that was on Tuesday morning. My head reels, I seem to have a monster bruise on my forehead. The windows are all boarded up, and theres furniture propped up in front of the doorway that, something tells me, leads outside. I look at my watch. Eight thirty pm. Hmm, thats useful, now, whats the date? Lets see, right hand upper button? No, thats the light. Right hand middle button? Ahh, there we go. Says it's Thursday, the twenty fifth. Whoa. Where have I been? I walk into the adjacant room, where I see something thats more then a bit shocking: A dead old lady. She's not only dead, she's murdered dead, you know, attacked to be killed and all. She's got a bullet wound to the head, but, even odder, she's got teeth marks, and missing chunks all over her side. Looks like something either shot her, and ate her, or ate her, and shot her, which doesn't make much sense, so let's see what we can find elsewhere. Oddly, the body doesn't smell. I thought dead people were supposed to smell bad, you know, bugs eating them, skin decaying and all. Weird. This room is the kitchen I guess, there's a Refrigerator over there, and a large table, looks like somebody ate there recently. Well, wherever I am, I'm not alone, theres places for two there. It's just when I'm turning to leave the room when I finally realize theres a heavy weight in my left pocket. Almost knowing what it is, I reach in, and pull it out. It's a Lugar Pistol, one with a faded green handle, and a half empty clip. Just seeing is jars my memory.

It was Tuesday. Dad was leaving, probably going to deal drugs again, and was apprently trying to protect me, in his crazy, alchohol fuddled way. He handed me his gun, and told me to always point the open end at the bad guy. Then he half smiled, and walked out the door to our small, shitty apartment. It was last time I remember seeing him. Then I remember logging online, trying desperatly to find someone that could make me feel better about my life. For as long as I can remember, me and my dad have been living together in this shitty part of New York, both of us trying to survive in a harsh environment, me with my education, and him with his odd obsession with making it big. We both sort of fail, I don't go to school every day, they've stopped bothering to call my dad anymore. My dad, well, he's never been much of a success story, and now he just deals drugs, and tries to get by. He's a good guy, he really loves me, I can tell, but he's just been through to much to stop now. He tries to give me what I want, which is why we have an internet connection, and a computer, even a shitty one. Anyways, after the lesson in proper gun handling, dad walked out, and I logged on. Nobody was in the chat rooms, or the messanger lists. Everyone was either at school, or too drugged up to be online. Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to live on the other side of these four miles, but sometimes when I think like that, I curl into a ball and cry, so most of the time I just sigh and push on. Well, all this and more popped into my head when I felt the cool metal grip of the Lugar Pistol in my hand, and I remember that it was me that put the bullet in the old ladies' head, although I can't remember why. I have fleeting images of her bursting out of an old closet, and me blasting away at her, but those I doubt ever happened.

I leave the kitchen, after grabbing some toast. It's cold, like it's been there for hours, and stale, but it's better then the white-bread ***** that I usually have to make at my house. I turn left, and find a hallway, with a staircase leading up to the second floor, and a room, a bedroom, empty. This is obviously where the old lady slept, theres old women type clothes here and there, most are folded and stacked neatly in chairs, but some are thrown here or there, as if someone was going through them desperatly for something. I'm just turning to leave when I spot a dresser. Now, normally a dresser isn't something you stop and shout about, but this one has a hammer and nails on top of it, and that triggers another flashback.

Me and Leo are in the old ladies' living room, the room I woke up in, Leo's got me over his shoulder, and I'm apparently out cold, with blood trickling down my head. Leos a friend of mine, big, burly, friendly, cool, everything a girl wants in a guy. Only with Leo it's not a facade to get chicks, it's just how he is. He's exauhsted, and blood flows slowly from a wound to his side. Looks like someone tried to kill him with a sharp rake, the marks down his side. Almost like claw marks, except somethings just a bit off about them. Can't tell what. Anyways, he sets me down, and goes into the next room. The windows and doors aren't boarded up, and in my memory I can see out them, into the smoking remains of what was once a New York Street. They're people running around outside, some fighting, some shooting each other, some others actually eating each other. Looks like general anarchy, and something somebody could get a headwound from. My memory self looks around groggily, apprently not as out cold as I thought. Leo comes back into the room with a hammer and and bag of nails, my dad's gun in between his elbow and arm. He puts the gun on a little table next to the couch, and starts nailing boards to the windows, and moving the furniture. This is the last little thing I remember, as pain and darkness swallow me up.

Well. That explains who I'm with, and why my head hurts like such a bitch. Lets see if we can't find Leo. I doubt he's left, maybe h's upstairs, sleeping or something. His breakfast was eaten, well, one of the breakfasts was eaten, I assume it was his. God, what a weirdo, making breakfast for somebody KO'ed. Hmm, I'll have to remember that when it's his birthday in a few weeks. I turn around and leave the room, Lugar in one hand, hammer in the other. I walk into the hallway, and up the stairs. Their carpetted, like every other room, in a dark violet color. The stairs end quickly, and I find myself on the second floor, in a bright hallway, light streaming in through boarded up windows. The three rooms all seem normal, two for storage, one for guests I guesst ( Small joke) that appears untouched. I come to the last door, and open it. It opens onto a tiny balcony, where I find Leo, asleep in the afternoon sun, laying on a cot, pulled from the old ladies' room. Just seeing him brings it all back, and I slump down, sliding against the plaster wall, feeling the warm caress of afternoon sunlight, and vivid memories together like a potent drug.

It's tuesday. Nobody online, I think I'll turn on the tube. I flick it on with the switch, I can't find the remote. I never can, for some reason only my dad can. He jokes about it, says it's the only thing he can do well, but I see pain in his eyes whenever he says it, and I know he tries so hard, but sometimes just trying can't get through it all. I turn on the tv, wondering if something importent was happening in the world. It's cold, and I snuggle into a blanket as I change the channel to the news. On the news is a person I've never seen before, and I watch enough tv to know all the major newscasters. He's clearly nervous, as if this wasn't what he normally did. He cleared his throat a few times, and read off a piece of paper, his hands shaking. Here's what he said:
"Well, the virus is apparently transmitted through the saliva of the predater, into the host animal's nervous system. Although the origin of the virus is unknown, the cause is very clear: A sort of transcendant state, where the dead animal can still move, and fufill the very basic of needs; So far this has been the urge to procreate, which, being dead and all, the animals can't do, and the need to feed, which the animals can do very well. Already isolated incodents are turning into epidemics, but fortunatly, the human population seems immune. If you see an odd animal, that looks like it should be dead, be careful in the extreme. Walk away slowly, and call the nearest police station, who will, in turn, call the National Guard. For channel six news, I'm Kevin Harns. After this, the news channel switches to a "Technical Difficulties" screen, and I lean back, digesting the odd news. I decide to go hang out in the Green Square, a local hangout for us poorer kids. I don a jacket, and some pants, and make for the door. Just as I'm about to leave, I see dad's gun. Normally, I wouldn't think twice about taking a gun, it'd be a straight no, but after the odd news message, I think I'll pack heat, just this once. I step out the door, into the cold New York air and notice something odd. Usually, you step out of the door, you have to adjust to the constant blair of cell phones, car horns, police sirens, and random background music, but today, it's dead calm. Now, in a small town, this would be fine, *****, it's only, what, nine thirty? But in the Big Apple, this is a bad happening, something you would rather not experiance. So, I decide to change my plans, and go to Leo's House. Leo and I have been friends since we were kids, and every time I got myself too far into *****, Leo was always there to help me back out. Sometimes with words, sometimes with fists. I was an accomplished brawler, I had experiance, but Leo had something I never would, and that was size. Leo was huge, six three, and a hundred and ninety pounts at 16. He hulked over most teenagers our age, and over lots of adults too. Any time I needed help with a bully, or some guy brought friends to a fight, I had Leo to back me up. So I'm walking to Leo's, and I see some old guy, huddling in the shadow of a building, holding his arm, which looks like it's been through a wood chipper. It's ripped and torn, bloody in the extreme. He looks bad. His skins pale, and his eyes are glassy. He's just holding his arm, shaking, as if something were changing inside. He slowly looks toward me, bearing his teeth. He takes a step, slow and uncertain out of the shadows, and I see whats wrong. The guys dead, clearly. There are bite marks all over his arm and shoulder, and theres not much meat left. He looks like fought it to the end though, theres blood all over his jacket, and some of it is a differant color then his. He steps out from the shadows, letting go of his ruined arm to reach for me. I don't need him to say anything, I just run like a madman. Thats something my dad always said about me, if ***** goes down, I'm the first one to figure out it's best to be far away.

Part Two: Encounter
The run to Leo's is much the same: Empty. Theres not a soul to be found. However, more then once I spot brown splotches on the ground, and unless their painting the streets in decor colors, something not so goods going on. A few times I hear screams, and gun fire in the distance, but nothing to be overly scared about. Of course, on the other hand, I am terrafied, so I guess that means it is something to be overly scared about? I get to Leo's House, and I see a small pile of bodies in front of his door, which has a small porch in front of it. They're all much the same as the old man back at the road, with bites, some nearly all the wya eaten, some just gnawed on a bit, but they all share one thing: Shotgun blasts. Looks like they charged up the step, up at the door, and met the wrong end of a loaded shotty. Fortunately, these poor fools seem pretty dead already, and they don't make as much a mess as living people do.

I watched, one time, as a guy got blasted away, and boy, was it messy. I step on the porch, and that familiar squeek sets me at ease. However, the instant that noise drifts into the house, I'm staring down a double barreled shotgun. Leo's behind it, looking a bit scared himself. He's got some slashes down his arm, looks like one of them managed to grab him before he blasted it. He sighs, and asks me what the hell I was doing here, and if I had seen the news? I nodded, and we both sat down on the porch steps, talking quietly about what we'd seen. He mentioned his mom and pop going off to work, and then never calling like they said they would. Leo's mom and dad have weird disorders that makes them worry about their son too much. Leos homeschooled, and is not supposed to talk to other kids. I'm one of the few exceptions that they know about, but Leo plays along to keep them happy. He says he figures their out on the streets like these poor folks, and he points to the piled bodies. At this point, I'm glad I took dad's Lugar, and just holding it, feeling the pent up energy inside it makes me feel more confident. I ask him what we he thinks we should do now, to which he just looks at me funny, and says he hadn't gotten that far. I suggest we go to the gun store, maybe arm ourselves more fully, which he agrees. The gun store, called "Mayorio's Quality Arms" is nearly four blocks away, and before leaving we both check and ready our weapons. I've never used mine, but Leo helps me, and shows me what buttons do what. He grabs a small box of shells, that clearly say, in his mom's writing, "Emergancies Only". He sighs again, and drops the shells into his pocket. I hold tighter to my dad's gun, and we start walking. As we leave his house, he asks me what it's like in my neighberhood, if it's as bad as it is here. I tell him about the old man, and about the utter quiet. He looks sad, and scared, and I bet I do too. He smiles then, and says in a fake cheery voice, "Hey, at least we're together, right?" Which I nod to, as much for me as him. The walk to the store is uneventful, thankfully. After about ten minutes of walking, we see it, and our hearts drop. It's surrounded by the psuedo- people we saw earlier, except now theres got to be at least ninety. They seem to be trying to get in, but all the windows and doors are blocked by stuff, furniture, stolen chain link fence, anything that will hold the insane people back. We see a guy on the roof, who looks at us, and screams a single word, one we hear even though he's probably four hundred yards away: Run. As one, the people surrounding the store turn, and look our way. For two seconds, our clear, scared, teary eyes meet the eyes of a hundred ravening beasts. Then comes a bestial roar, and their suddenly moving towards us, some running, some crawling, some shuffling. Leo takes a few shots with his gun, and I do the same, and the front rank vanishes, leaving bloody corpses on the ground. The man on the roof adds his fire, in the form of a Beretta pistol, and several more people hit the ground, dead. Leo's gun clicks a few times, and suddenly we're running. We go down several streets, but the further we run, the more people we seem to attract. They come from alleys, from cars smashed into buildings, from sewer grates even, all of them intent on us. We see several other living people on the way, each doing much the same as us, although some were not as lucky as we. One fat guy, closely persued by two cheerleaders-that-weren't tripped, and had just enough time to scream the words "Help Me!" to us as we ran by before the girls started eating his arms and legs. His cries followed us for blocks, and suddenly we were running with what looked like an army behind us, an impenetrable wall of decaying flesh. I was looking over my shoulder when Leo *****ed my arm, bringing me back a step. I looked to him, and, seeing his stunned expression, turned to look forward. What I saw there made me want to go insane with fear. Another group of beast-people in front of us. But these weren't differant people, these were the same people that we had been running from. There, the girl I saw one time as me and my dad went to the movies, recognisable by her low cut top, and pink boots. Of course, now she was covered in her own blood, and her sex appeal was almost nil. Leo grabbed me again, and pulled me down an ally. I had just enough time to yell for him to look out, when I ran into the telephone pole, going at full sprint. Darkness crashes on me, and I feel strong arms lifting me up.
The flasback fades, leaving me feeling spent. Leos still asleep, he's pretty tired I guess. Theres a ripped up shirt on his shoulder, looks like it's stopped the majority of the bleeding. That explains what the old ladies' room was torn up for. I shake him a bit, and he groans. As he turns to get up, I can see his little cot is stained with blood, and I start to worry about him. He opens his eyes a bit, sees me, and smiles. "Hey, your awake, cool." To this I nod, and ask him if he's ok too. Now I can see what was off about the rents in his shoulder. They weren't made by talons, or claws, they were made by fingernails. He grimaces, but says he's alright, just a bit groggy from his hurts. I smile sadly, and offer to go down and get the breakfast he made. He shrugs, and says he already ate his. I offer to share mine, and before he can tell me to eat it myself, I walk down the hall, away from Leo. The whole time I tried not to look down onto the street, where I knew what I would see. People, all trying to get in the house. I walk down the hallway, down the stairs, and into the kitchen. The dead ladies still there, but I barely notice her. Her skin seems to be drying, hardening into something I've never seen before. I grab the plate, and the full cup of water, and head back up. Once I get there, I find Leo on his feet, loading his shotgun. I tap him on the shoulder, and put the plate down on the cot, sitting on the brown wood of the balcony. He plops down next to me, and, after a bit of discussion, eats some of the food. He makes sure to leave plenty for me, but I'm anything but hungry. I ask him what happened after I ran into the pole, and he sits back, eyes misting over, as if asking his subconscious what really went on. After a moment of silence, he leans towards me, and starts talking.

Well, after I grabbed you, and you bonked your head on the pole, we we're sorta screwed, and I knew it, so I tossed you on my shoulder, and ran like I've never ran before. We got as far as the Police Station, on twenty third street, but it was empty. Bodies piled all around it, looks like the cops didn't go easy to the monsters. I found a few shotgun shells for mine, and a few small pistols. I left the pistols in the living room, by the way, in case we need them. After the Police Station, I guess I sorta lost the people somehow, because I couldn't see any of them around, so I just sorta wandered around for awhile, sorta in a daze. I guess the dead people can smell us, because every so often I'd go by something, and they'd pop out, snarling like animals. We slept tuesday night on the roof of an apartment building, and spent most of the day there too. I'm not surprised you don't remember it, it was pretty crazy. Monsters everywhere, we got at least thirty that day. Anyway we spent the night there again, and we had just gotten ready to bed down when a pack of monsters saw me, on the roof. They started screamng and hollering, so we both got out of there, and ran down here, a few streets down, to old lady Henderson's House. It was easy getting here, there was still lots of living folk around here, and it looks like the monsters were having a field-day. Anyway, you passed out, you were sorta in a daze ever since you hit that pole. And, well, here we are. I boarded the windows up while you slept, and I've been waiting for you to wake up ever since. We're not in the best shape, you got that head wound, and a few scratches and nicks, and I've got this monster slice, where one of them got me before you shot it down. *****er was in a closet, just waiting for some poor fool to come into her living room.

So I did blast that old lady, and I did know her when she was alive. Her name was "Old Lady Henderson" And she was one of the nicer old ladies on the block. You could lose a ball in her yard, and instead of yelling at you, and waving her can or hose, she would just smile, stop her gardening for a moment, and hand you the ball, or throw it to you. Some times she saw me and Leo wandering the streets, and she would invite us in for cocoa or something. She was a good old lady, and I felt a little guilty about blowing her away. Me and Leo had fallen into silence for a moment, each deep in thought, when we both heard a splintering crash. We both looked at each other, reaching for our weapons. Then we heard a man's voice, shouting words.
"Anybody there?! Somebody, please god somebody help me!" I could hear gunfire in the background, and the screams of dying monster-people. Me and Leo both leapt up, our weapons in hand. The gunfire continued, and the screams of dying people became the quiet thumps of bodies hitting the ground. We both got into the kitchen at the same time as the man, him loading his pistol, us both levelling our weapons his way. He went white, and dropped his gun.
"Are you alive?" I ask him, jaw set, safety off.
"Yeah, I'm cool. Haven't been touched. Looks like I'm actually better off then you two." He said, flashing us a warm grin. It was nice to see a living face, but there were more importent things to do then chat. The back door was now broken off it's hinges, and Leo yelled for me to go get the hammer and nails, and the man to get ready for hell to break loose. The monsters apparently weren't as dumb as they looked, and they had heard the commotion out back. Already I could hear the roar of Leo's Shotgun, and the now familiar blap blap blap of the man's handgun. I grabbed the nails and hammer, and headed to the kitchen. Leo and the guy were both standing behind the kitchen table, which they had upended, and placed in front of the doorway. From here I could see into the old ladie's back yard. It was small, with a shed, and some laundry on the line, but more importently, it was filled with snarling beasts, things that had once been people, sane, rational, fun people, but now were just monsters, trying to get some meat. The thought sickened me, and I immediatly got to the task of nailing the kitchen table to the door frame. The two made room for me, and before long, the table was nailed to the doorway, and I was looking for another plank of wood. Leo told me there was some in the storage room, and that the old lady must have been some sort of carpenter in her spare time. I was running to the stairs when I saw a closet I had seen before, but now the door was open. I was feeling extremely vulnerable, but I couldn't let it go unchecked. I pushed the door open farther, to be confronted with a snarling visage of a younger boy, half of his face chewed off. He lunges at me, grabbing hold of me with arms that were surprisingly strong. I break free, twisting at the last moment to avoid his gnawing teeth. Already his filthy nails had ripped gashes in my arm, and my entire left was ablaze in fiery agony. He steps back, preparing to pounce on me, like some insane hunting cat from hell. He jumps, but this time I'm ready, and in midair, I managed to smash his skull in with the hammer. He drops the floor, limp, the pricks of light in his eyes suddenly dead. I gasp, grabbing a towel, trying to stop my life from flowing out of my mangled arm. I managed to shuffle back to the kitchen, and in a small voice I remember telling Leo that I couldn't quite manage, and if he would go get the wood please. Leo looked at me, cursed, and ran out of the room. The man had apparently run out of ammo for his pistol, and now had a long red fire axe in his arms, leaning out of the doorway, decapitating any monsters that got close. Already there was a huge pile outside the back door, and the monsters now had to climb a bit to reach him. They were dwindling, and only a few more ran forward to get themselves killed. After the growling and screeching stopped, he took a few shuddery breaths, dropped the axe, and turned to me. He went pale again, and grabbed the towel I had forgotten to clutch around my arm. I was in either shock, or the best high of my life, I couldn't tell which at the time. Once more, darkness fell on me, except this time it crashed down like a breaker wave, and it hurt. Alot.

Part Three: Adaptation
Groan. Here I am, on the floor of this musty house, knocked out. This is starting to become a habit, one that I need to shake. Speaking of shaking, I can feel someone shaking me and, it makes my head and arm hurt worse. Maybe if I asked real politely, they'd go away and let me sit here on the cool linolium floor, and go back to sleep. I try to mumble for them to go away, but somebody must have stuffed my mouth with cotton, because I can't, for the life of me, get any real words out. The shaking continues, and now those shadowy voices have the nerve to start pouring something cold and wet on me. The cool floor and the icey liquid are worlds apart, the former being nice and friendly, and the latter being something very unpleasent. After more something is poured onto me, I finally open my eyes. Theres a kid looming over me, damn he's tall. And theres some guy, pale blond hair, raggad face, lighting a cigarette. He looks at me, winks, and leaves the room, telling the tall kid he'll be upstairs. I wonder where upstairs is. I look again at the tall kid, who, thank god, has stopped pouring water on my face. Seeing his dusky skin, and worried look reminds of his name: Leo. Leos a good guy. The sort of guy you'd invite to a party, and if you forgot your wallet, he would pay the tab for everbody, and never say a thing. Anyways, his name's Leo, and then I remember my own: Josh. Hmmm. Cool name, bit odd for somebody from Greece though. I'm Greek? Oh yeah, but I was raised in the Big Apple. That explains some stuff I guess, but not why I'm here on the floor, covered in wet water. Leo picks me up, takes me to the living room, puts me down, and covers me with a quilt. Where'd he get a quilt? He can't sew quilts... This is the last thing I think as darkness creeps up silently, and pounces on me.
I awake, not for the first time today, in a daze. Somoene's looming over me, somebody tall. Ah, Leo. Wait, Leo? That means.. Aw *****.. So I AM in a musty ass old house, and legions of man-monsters are indeed romping around, no doubt causing utter chaos.
"Hey, you alright? You keep getting knocked out man." Leo says this, and I can see the concern in his eyes. I tell him I'm ok, which, for some odd reason, I am. I feel fine, I don't really hurt, or throb, or anything. The last little bit of aftershock wears off, and I noticed the gashes had stopped bleeding. Still hurt like a bitch, but hey, at least not I'm not makin a mess, right? Leo backs off a few steps, a dubious look in his eyes. I know what he's thinking, and at this point, I'm more or less thinking the same thing: Why am I ok? I was like, comatose right before I blacked out, and now I'm fine. Oh well, not the first *****ed up thing that's happened this week. The blond guy walks into the room, this time without a cigarette, he must have smoked it down. He smiles at me, and asks if I'm ok. He tells me him and Leo talked while I was out, and says his name is Dillion. I tell him my name, shake his hand, and see something new: A television. I go to it, and when I do, Dillion looks away, leaving the room. I can hear his boots tromping on the wooden stairs. Leo looks sadly at the tube, telling me it's all static, or technical difficulties. He says not to bother, that we all need to talk about what our plans are upstairs. He motions, and I get up, and follow him up the stairs. The balcony hasn't changed much, surprise, except for there's another chair up there, I guess Dillion brought it up. Dillion's already seated, the chair turned away from us. He motions as we both come onto the balcony, and we look. The next building over, looks like some sort of office building, but there's people in it. Either that, or the monsters are putting up "Please help us" signs up, to trick us. There's a big banner, looks like the sort of banner you'd see inside an office building, saying, "Be productive!" Or something. The sign flutters in the wind, and it's then that I look into the street. Hundreds, no, thousands of people are milling about, all sort of wandering aimlessly. I hear a sound I haven't heard in days, the sound of a car, or maybe a truck. It's a roaring sound, accompanied by lot's of gunfire. The three of us look toward the direction of the sound, and, soon enough, a fire truck comes into view. It's had some pretty serious work done to it, there's a lot of chain link fence cut up and welded to it, meshed in with odd steel bars and pipes, to form a strange sort of carapace around the fire truck. There are people inside, real people, and by the looks of it, they're armed, and armed well. On top of the Fire Truck, replacing the sirens is a man, with a megaphone, and he's shouting at the top of his lungs for any survivers to come to him. Our hearts rise when we see the truck, going some twnety miles an hour, careen towards the office building, but apparently the builders of the "Fire-Tank" Didn't think it all the way through, and they plough right into the milling horde of monsters. The truck groans, and I can hear metal screaming in protest. The truck grinds to a halt, and the monster-people start to try and tip it over. I guess the people that made the truck didn't have many of the infected people in their area, but here, it's a sea of human flesh, and the truck is quickly overturned. We can all hear the screams of the people inside as the beasts crack their precious armor like a clamshell, and we all go inside, our morale lower then ever. A few somber steps down, we notice it's getting late, and we all head to the living room once more. Leo flicks on a light, and we all sit there, sort of digesting what we've seen. It's been a hard few days, and I just can't feel much optimism at this point. I can tell the other two guys feel the same way, but what can we say to make it better? I'm stewing in my own melancholy when Dillion suddenly sits bolt upright, his eyes flashing in the dim light.
"I've got it!" he exclaims, clearly excited. We both turn his way as he stands, his face smiling.
"The sewers! We can get into a manhole, and close it as we go! They won't be able to get in! It's perfect!" His hope catches on, and I find myself in the kitchen, packing food into a backpack. Dillion and Leo are doing the same, and soon we've got enough for probably a week, maybe more. Dillion tells me to look around for a flashlight, and Leo goes in search of our weapons. After rummaging around in the hallway closet, I find a few high powered flashlights. Looks like Henderson didn't want to be caught unprepared if an earthquake or some such hit. Good. Her preparedness might just save our lives. Man, what a depressing thought. We meet again in the living room, and dole out weapons. I end up with my Lugar, with a measly three bullets, and a smaller pistol, god knows what it's called. Leos got his trusty shotgun, and the fire axe, and Dillion ends up with a few pistols too. We wait outside the back door, each of us breathing heavily already. I'm not sure if I'm ready to face what's outside that door, and I expect the others are thinking along the same lines. After a few steadying breaths, Leo looks at us in turn, asking if we're ready. I throw a thumbs up, and Leo starts hacking up the table nailed to the doorway. Several splintering crashes later, (Damn Leos strong, he goes through a large table like it was made of cheese.) we're confronted with a bright flash of sunlight, and freedom. The back yards empty, except for the pile of corpses, which are doing the same thing the old lady did when she died: turn into "skin leather". Weird. We walk out cautiously, and everything's quiet. The backyard consists of about fourteen feet of grass, well kept and green, a clothes line, with the clothes in tatters. (Shotgun blasts do that, or so I'm told.) A tiny shed is up against the back wall, it's pristine whiteness a stark contrast to the gore drenched lawn. We walk to the back of the yard slowly, each keeping an eye on the other. The gate swings lazily on one hinge, creaking in the small breeze. We walk out, and we're on the street, where it looks like chaos is more or less in total control. Gore here and there, bodies, cars smashed all over the place, broken windows, you name it, it's out here. We spot a manhole, in the middle of the street, and we walk towards it. It's sealed, and not shoddily either. Dillion swars, I look depressed, and Leo looks inspired. We both turn to him, and he explains that theres a chop shop a few blocks down, that if we made it, we could find a crowbar or three. I smile, my enthusiasm restored, and Leo leads the way down the street. We walk, and the thing that strikes me is that it's so quiet. I can't hear anything, no screams, no gunfire, no nothing, just the sound of three people walking down an abandoned street, the sneakers making slight squishing noises. After a few minutes, we all hear a bestial roar behind us, and pick up the pace. "We're getting close, almost there." Says Leo as we hear another roar, this time ahead of us. The roar sounds oddly familiar, and puts me in mind of the zoo. Weird. The roars continue, each time making us jump, each time making us more and more sure we're totally surrounded. We're in a wide street when they attack: A dozen lions, all shredded, ripped and bloody, from every direction. We get a few seconds time to thin their ranks as they charge, but damn, their fast. I pump a Lugar Shot into the face of one as it crouches down, only to spot another one behind me. It leaps, and I drop out of the way. It's claws rake down as it passes, and I scream in agony as I feel white hot talons scratch furrows into my back. The Lion somehow flips in midair, and lands on Dillion's back. He doesn't see it coming, it's over in less then a second. One moment he's roaring as loud as the lions around him, the next he's falling, his throat ripped out. I get back to my feet, my gun roaring as tears fall down my face. I didn't know him for long, but he sure as hell was closer to a friend to me then these things. I hear Leo's shout, but in my berserk haze, I ignore it, to kill more of the monsters. I hear my Lugar go click, and suddenly I've got my other gun in my hand, it's voice adding strength to my own. It all fuses, and all I can see is dark black blood, and I slowly become a machine, and I blank out. Soon, I feel a hand shaking my shoulder, and I look up. It's Leo, and I'm on the ground, pulling the trigger of my pistol over and over, it's barrel pointed at an already dead cat. After several more clicks, I stop, and find my voice. "You ok?" I ask, my mind slowly becoming my own again. He nods, but I can see he didn't escape unharmed either. "Where's Dillion?" He asks, concern evident in his exausted face. "Gone." I say, and I look away. He sighs, hands me a few clips, and helps me to my feet. We keep walking, Leo covered in the black blood, and me probably just as bad. The Chop Shop comes into view, a piece of ***** concrete box, with a chain link fence surrounding the compound. Leo smashes the door down, and we walk in. Inside is dusty, and empty, aside from the tools and machines we expect to find. We rest a few moments, and hunt around for the crowbars. We find a few, and Leo grabs some road flares, just in case he says. I smile weakly at this, and we leave, the shop as silent as it was when we came in. Outside is quiet again, as if the city had swallowed everything up, and was slowly becoming a monster itself. We heard shouts, gunfire, screams, terrible noises, but we continue on, the idea of stopping seeming like sure death.

Part Four: Placebo
"Remember that day in school they took us on a tour of the Raddly Military Compound?'
"Yeah, why? You think we could make it?"
The Raddly Military Compound, or RMC, is about fifteen miles away from the city limits, and is supposed to be one of the better armed military complexes in the state, if we could make it, well, our nightmare may be over. But if it's just as bad as it is here, it could be a whole hell of a lot riskier then the city. We talk about it for a few more minutes, discussing our other options: There aren't many, in fact there aren't any. We finally get to the manhole again, thankfully with no further incidents. It's quiet again, something I'm starting to like less and less. Where is everyone? There's nobody out here, nobody to shoot at, or to growl at us, or anything. Leo is popping the manhole open, and I lend my arm to the job. He looks at me funny for a second, and says that one of us should probably keep watch. I look around, and tell him the faster we're inside, the sooner we won't have to keep watch at all, and he nods, he must be hurt worse then he looks. He's got a few cuts on his back too, but other then that, he's escaped harm. Lucky *****er, my back hurts like a bitch, and I can feel dried blood caking between my shoulder blades. The manhole makes a quiet chunk noise, and opens, to our delight.

Leo pulls a flashlight out of the pack, flicks it on, and starts climbing down the rusty iron ladder. It's dark, and spider webs cover most of the ladder, but I can't say that I really care: It may be dark, and it may be smelly, but it's safe. Leo reaches into his pack again, this time withdrawing a small golden compass. Wow, good thought there. "Good idea with the compass, I woulda never thought to bring one..." I tell him, and he smiles. It's not a fake smile either, it looks like he's geniunely happy to be helpful. As I climb down, I notice that I can still see a shaft of light in the gloom, and I look up at the manhole. It's still open, stupid me. I start to climb when I hear bestial growls again. Not the same as the psycho lions, but definatly a noise that I will never forget. Beast people, and lots of them, by the sound of it. I climb faster, and now I can see them, they were apparently following us, waiting for a chance to attack. Well, they must have held back, because now the *****ers are too damn late. They get just close enough for me to see the whites of their eyes before I slam the cover of the manhole back on, laughing cruelly at their inability to do anything about it. I hear a few muffled bams, as if they were trying to break down the iron covering with their fists. I laugh again, and drop into the ankle high water of the sewer. Leo is waiting, weapon in hands, looking concerned. "It's ok, they just barely missed us. Lucky us eh?" I say, with a smile. He nods, tells me that we need to go "This way" and starts off. The darkness is total, and we don't get all that far before we need to rest. We're both tired, and wounded, although the bleeding stopped awhile ago. After a few minutes of rest, we continue on, our flashlights providing the only illumination in the darkness. We travel for a few hours, my watch providing the only judge of how fast or slow time goes. I look at again. Damn, it's been five hours since we got into these sewers.
It's 6:30, and it seems like my entire life has been changed from an adventure into some horrible nightmare, one I can't wake up from. We don't talk much, but there's not a whole hell of a lot to talk about, we've both been through so much, seen so many terrible things. My watch bleeps twice when it turns seven, and we take another break. My back's stiff, and I can tell Leo's wounds are giving him trouble too. We keep trudging on after a few minutes, neither of us thought to pack any sleep gear, so stopping for the night isn't really an option. We're tired, and hungry, even though we've tried to eat a few snacks as we go. Morale is low, but then again considering our "unique" situation, I'd say we're really not doing all that poorly. I'm just thinking that a good long nap would be better then walking along when I catch the scent of something I haven't in a long time: fresh air. It wafts past us, tantalizing us to go the extra little bit, and we breathe it in as if it was the first time we'd ever had something so nice. I can see faintly, and we both turn off the flashlights, to conserve battery power, just in case. The sewer ends in an irrigation channel, made of concrete. To our right is a massive brown stain, and this reminds us that we're not just trudging around in the sewers, we're trudging around in hostile territory. Weapons ready, we exit the sewer, the warm sun caressing us like a long lost friend. Leo tells me that the base is supposed to be about another ten miles, according to his map. Where he got a map, I don't know, but I'm glad we've got a plan at least. We walk along the concrete corrider, when we hear shouts up ahead. Looking at each other, we both shoulder our packs, and jog forward, towards the shouting. We see a huge tanker truck, knocked on it's side. LOoks like it was followng the channel, and somehow crashed down into it. I don't want to think what made it crash, but I don't have to. Leo and I crouch down behind the truck, we can hear something on the other side. It's a ripping, gnawing sound, as if someone was eating a leg of lamb real messily. I can hear snarls and grunts as well, and I peek around the corner of the upturned truck to get a better look. It's the trucker, his body is outside the smashed truck, looks like he managed to escape the crash unharmed, but then ran into trouble once he stumbled out of his shattered vehicle. One of them got to him, and I guess attacked, looks like the trucker is dead, and the beast is gnawing on his chest, taking huge chunks with it's yellow teeth, barely chewing, and swallowing the flesh. The bodies still bleeding, and I see it twitch every once in awhile. I'm looking in fascination, Leo prodding me, trying to pull me back. I resist, I'm too captivated by the morbid feast the monster is having. After a half minute or so, the body stops bleeding, and the monster seems to get bored of it. It nuzzles it a few times, sniffing like a rabid wolf, and then lopes away, going at a quick jog, it's arms flailing placidly.



What do you all think of my story? Good? Bad? Mediocre? I was in the shower and I thought it would be cool to write a story. Maybe it's just a one time thing, but I feel a series coming on.