Zore330

I remember it like it was yesterday. The heart-wrenching screams, cries for help, and blood so much blood. 

The day was August 10, 2026, I had just gotten my lunch from the cafeteria when I  noticed something peculiar. Various parts of the city were creating smoke as if fires had been lit, how I wish I didn't ignore them, how I wish I could have taken action that moment but I couldn't, and that's why I lost you. 

It only took a moment and everyone was in panic, right before my eyes was a scene I'd only ever seen in movies. They limped toward us and tore us to pieces, I didn't want to believe it. I couldn't believe it but it was true. 

I watched as one took a bite from you and watched as you turned to one of them. I still can't believe my hands were the ones that took you out. And I still can't believe you're gone.

The walking plague

As the black Jeep Compass and blue Toyota RAV4 approached us, a sense of relief washed over me. My gut feeling had been wrong; my brother was safe. S-A-F-E.

We waited patiently in the car until the two vehicles parked opposite ours. Three people emerged from the jeep—a young woman with short brown hair, a bald man, and a teenager with long brown hair. I couldn't help but guess they were related. From the Toyota, a woman with pink hair stepped out of the driver's seat. I couldn't help but think about how unusual it was to maintain such vibrant hair color in this new world. She was accompanied by another woman with back-length auburn hair and a light pink dress.

It was reassuring to see other survivors of this tragedy, but one thought consumed my mind: Where. Is. Alex?

I could be irrational at times, and this was one of those times. The closest thing I could get my hand on was a revolver, and I had a feeling I might have to use it. I jumped out of the car and met them halfway, revolver in hand.

"Where the hell is he?" I demanded, trying to keep my voice calm while my index finger hovered over the trigger.

"I think you'd better put the gun down, little missy," the bald man said, and I had a sinking feeling he might be a sexist or a chauvinist.

"Don't worry, I'm proficient in using it," I retorted, raising my right hand that held the gun. "Here's the deal. It's either you cooperate, or I'll pull the trigger. Those things will swarm us, and we'll all die. It's your choice."

"I'd listen to her, buddy," Oliver chimed in from behind me. I hadn't noticed him getting out of the car, and he also had his gun with him. "She can be a little crazy," he advised, standing next to me.

"Your wasting time, and my trigger finger is getting a little itchy," I said impatiently, my finger brushing the trigger.

"I won't be able to answer if you don't spell out a complete sentence," he mocked, rolling his eyes, and I glared, my anger getting the best of me.

"Now, now. Let's be civil," the woman with short brown hair stood between us, diffusing the situation. "Chad, calm down," she said, calming down the bald man.

"I really don't have time for this. Where. The. Hell. Is. Alex?" I demanded.

"Alex?" the pink-haired woman stepped in. "Do you mean Dr. Harper?"

"Yes, Dr. Alex Harper from Metro City Hospital," I said eagerly. "You know, tall, blonde hair, green eyes," I gave them a description of Alex.