Chapter 1

Today is the day. I think to myself as I set the radio down for the hundredth time this morning and begin getting dressed. Still nothing but static. I can't help but be hopeful though. I keep thinking the government will get things under control any minute now and let everyone know that things can go back to being normal. Although I haven't been able to find anything out about the outside world, aside from what my mom told me, I figured keeping the radio close by would be a good idea should someone get into contact using the signal.

After the initial bombing, the government went off the grid. Taking the phone lines and other means of communication with them, along with any internet access. So far, I have decided that my best course of action will be to make it to Iowa to search for my parents and sister. I searched throughout the house to gather supplies last night and came up with a decent bug out bag.

I'm feeling scared just because I don't know what to expect and I'm not one to jump into situations I'm not fully prepared for. After my mother called to inform me of what was happening outside, I had rushed home and into action, locking all the doors and windows and closing all the blinds. She had told me that the people within the blast radius had reacted to the radiation in adverse ways and that the government wasn't able to keep things contained.

The radiation combines with common illnesses such as head colds, and then the host's body shuts down and reanimates with low motor function and wild behavior. They were becoming crazed over human flesh, becoming 'zombies'. It just seems ridiculous when you think about all the low-grade horror movies out there. It's easy to daydream and think about what you would do in a situation like this, but when it becomes reality, it is a lot different.

All it takes is a bite for them to transmit the radiated virus to another living being, and then it's only a matter of time. There was no way of knowing if there would ever be a way to save those that have become infected, and I would not take any chances. Not until I found my parents and sister. I am well known for being a careful person and not taking risks, so I'm slightly optimistic about my survival rate, even without knowing firsthand what it will be like to see an infected person.

Pulling on my hiking boots, I prepare to finally leave. I look through my backpack and take a mental inventory of what I have. I have a large hunting knife, a change of clothes, and some food and water. I feel like that should at least hold me over until I find a more secure way to travel with supplies. I will look for a car, but I don't want to spend a lot of time right now gathering things that aren't an absolute necessity.

I turn and walk across the hall into the bathroom in search of a few hair ties. It wouldn't be a good idea to have my hair in my eyes during a fight should it come to that. By the time I am finished weaving my hair into a tight Dutch braid that falls to my lower back, my arms are aching.

I really should have gotten that gym membership I kept telling myself I would get.

Sighing, I let my burning arms fall to my sides to rest. Looking in the compact mirror above the bathroom sink, I barely recognize myself. I was not a plump girl, but at 140 pounds; I wasn't slim. Not having an appetite because of anxiety and stress helped me lose my pesky freshman fifteen. People aren't joking when they warn you about that. Now, my once full figure is gaunt and slender. My eyes look sunken and my cheekbones are ever prominent. My hair lays flat in its confined braid. I can't muster up a smile. The only motivation I have that I must continue is my missing family.

Bracing myself for what lies ahead, I grab my backpack and a hoodie and make my way over to the door. Resting my hand on the doorknob, I can't help but feel heavy inside as I look back at the place that I have called home for so long. The fear settles in my stomach like a rock again.

What if I never find my family? What if they didn't make it? What if I don't make it?

Forcefully, I make myself open the door with my hands clammy and my heart pounding in my ears, drowning out the doubt in my mind. Outside there is nothing but the sound of me pulling the door shut behind me. I walk to the storage shed close to the back of the house when I am suddenly knocked to the ground; the air leaving my chest painfully.