

ZAC ZOMBIE

Slayer of the undead

Book 1: The beginning of the end

By Eduard Joseph

Published by Eduard Joseph

Smashwords edition

Copyright 2013 Eduard Joseph

Front cover design by Eduard Joseph

Cover illustration by Nicholas Benitez

Used by permission

Twitter: @TheEduardJoseph

#ZacZombie

Facebook: facebook.com/EduardJoseph

This is a work of fiction. The events and characters described herein are imaginary and are

not intended to refer to specific places or living persons. Any resemblance to any person or

persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

All Rights Reserved

The right of Eduard Joseph to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by him under the South African Copyright Act of 1978 (as amended).

1

Keep quiet. Do not make a sound – for the dead is all around us now. You will not see them coming until it is too late. It is the way of the world now. Dark versus light and good versus evil. What side will you belong to?

Wait, I am getting ahead of myself yet again. I have this nasty habit of doing that. If you are reading my memoirs, I should probably start at the beginning; like any normal story would – but this is no story and it is anything but normal. By the time you're done reading this you will probably be asking yourself how did I manage to survive hell on earth?

My name is Zac "Zombie" Williams. I am a high school senior at Kingston High. I had just turn 17 during the spring and high school life was as normal as normal could get.

I was never really a popular guy, but I was no nerd either. People knew who I was, but never really socialized with me. I did not fit in with the popular kids and I did not fit in with the bookworms.

I was on the High school track team, but I was not the star athlete either. I was somewhere between second best and forgetful. I always kept to myself and never involved myself with high school politics. I could care less who dated who and who did what. School was just another activity I was forced to do between waking up and going home.

I should probably describe what I look like since we have not actually met yet. I have black scruffy hair down to my ears, a killer jawline (if I must say so myself) and piercing blue eyes that have a bit of a purple tint to them in certain lighting. I am quite tall (about 1,86 meters tall) and I keep fit – you never know; I might one day meet the girl of my dreams and I would like to look good for her.

Not that I have any trouble talking to girls, but girls never found me interesting. They were more into the sporty jock guys and rarely spotted a loner walking down the corridors of lockers. I would notice them of course, but always tried not to be too conspicuous as it creeps out any girl. A loner staring at girls were creepy. I tried not to be creepy.

That is what I am and what I always will be – a loner. I prefer it that way. I do not get attached easily; heck I only have one friend and we hardly ever see each other. His name is Jim. He lives in my street and is just as socially awkward as I am. We sometimes hang out in the basement of their house and play video games. Our favourite games are anything with weapons and zombies.

I've always liked zombies. I think it is a scary thought that your neighbour or best friend – or even your own mother could wake up with an unspeakable urge to eat you. Not only did I love zombie video games, but I own ever zombie film ever made – from the very first one back in 1932 right up to every single lame ass remake of today.

I had the nickname "Zombie" because I lived for, well just about anything about zombies. I knew every zombie movie by heart and always wanted to see a real live zombie – never knowing the day would actually come when I would fight them to stay alive.

Before all hell broke loose the only zombies I knew existed were the ones at school who were constantly on their phones, mindlessly sending messages and conforming to the brainwash that was technology.

If I remember correctly it happened on a Monday... no wait... it was a Tuesday. Yes, definitely on a Tuesday. I had tuna salad for lunch and the cafeteria usually served tuna salad on a Tuesday – until they moved it to Wednesdays... or did it happen on a Wednesday? Who cares? I'm getting side tracked again. The important thing is that I was in the concentration camp we call school when it happened.

Anyway, let's get this show on the road. Hold on to your hats boys and girls, you are in for a wild ride.
For storyteller's sake we'll say it happened on a Wednesday. I was on my way to the cafeteria as usual; making my way through the sea of high school pupils in the corridors – why can't anyone make way? People just kept standing where they were and continued talking about what they did the previous night.

People were so inconsiderate – or perhaps it was because nobody paid attention to the loner. I always had to push my way through the crowds of stupid-faces standing in my way.

Up ahead I saw a group of jocks standing next to their lockers – actually they were cordoning off the entire corridor with their big muscles and small testicles. Damn, I hate walking pass them. They never had the courtesy to step aside – not even for girls. They believed that the world belonged to them. Luckily for me, jerks like them would one day end up working at a fast food outlet.

"Excuse me." I said and tried to squeeze pass.

The jock with the spiky red hair turned around and looked at me funny – the way someone would look at an old lady that farted in a cinema. His name was Alex and he was a real jerk. I was not sure why he was popular as I always thought kids with red hair were considered to be freaks of nature.

"Why are you touching me?" Alex asked.

I took a step back – things could get ugly if I did not watch what I say to the Neanderthal.

"Are you a faggot?" Alex asked.

I desperately wanted to explain to him that the term faggot actually derived from the British word for cigarette and that he just asked whether I was a tobacco product – I doubt he would see my comment as funny. Not everyone understood my sense of humor – which was a bit on the dark side.

"No." I apologized, trying to sound as sincere as possible, "I just—"

"You just what?" Alex interrupted.

I hated when someone cut me off. It is such a rude thing to do. If he just kept quiet and let me finish my sentence, he would have gotten the same reply as he will get now that he had interrupted me – again something I felt would be a waste of time explaining to a Neanderthal.

"I'm sorry." I said, "I am just on my way to the cafeteria."

I knew the best thing would be to keep a low profile. He was considerably bigger than me – a bit too big for a senior I might add. He looked more like he was twenty five or something.

Alex stared me up and down as if contemplating whether he would accept my apology or not and then he stepped aside.

_Wow, a jock actually stepped aside for me. Call Ripley's_.

"Just watch where you are going." Alex warned.

I cautiously passed him. We never lost eye contact until I cleared the group. Alex turned back to his friends and they started laughing – probably at me. I really could care less whether I amused them or not. It was only high school and it would soon be over. I just had to get through the rest of my senior year.

The cafeteria was packed with kids eating the cardboard the school called food. I stood in line at the counter for about five minutes before I got to the front. The lunch lady was almost just as huge as Alex and had just as much facial hair. She had a pitbull mouth that probably never learned to smile. Her grey hair stuck through the hairnet, so why she was wearing one I did not understand.

"What do you want?" She asked in a mundane tone.

"Everything looks so good." I joked.

She grunted, but did not smile. She got the joke, but it was not amusing enough to make her smile. She would not eat the garbage that she was forced to made – not even if you paid her. Not even if she lost a bet would she take a bite of it.

"Everything tastes like horse urine." She said, "Now what do you want? I ain't got all day."

I wanted to ask her what other plans she had for the day and whether it involved finding a cure for cancer that she _didn't have all day_ , but knew I would just be asking for trouble.

"I'll have a tuna salad, please." I said and smiled.

She's obviously overworked and never expected her life to land her working at a high school cafeteria as a lunch lady. She rolled her eyes at my smile and dished me some of the tuna salad. I looked down at the splatted food on my plate which looked more like something that got run over by a truck than tuna salad.

"Enjoy." She grunted and handed me my food.

"I always do." I said with a smile.

She grunted again and said, "That salad tastes like vomit anyway."

Hmmmm... not exactly what I want to picture while eating a gooey salad, but at least she had a bit of humour in her. I flashed her my pearly whites and left. I think our daily bickering was the closest thing I had to a friend at school. How sad was my life that the only person I could stomach to talk to was the lunch lady?

Where to sit? The cafeteria was full and I did not really like sitting with people I did not know. Some people made the strangest noises while eating. That probably had to be the sound that annoyed me the most – hearing other people masticating their food like they were chewing pieces of glass.

To my left I saw a freshman sitting at an empty table. Did he want to sit on his own or was he ostracized? I bet I could get through my lunch at a table with one person? Just as long as he did not want to chat with me.

I walked over to the table and noticed that he looked up as I got closer – this was a bad idea. He smiled at me as I sat down and I nodded back. The freshman looked down at his food and kept to himself. If he kept to himself we would get along just fine.

I glanced at him for a moment, but did not recognize him. Perhaps he was new? Not that I actually _knew_ the freshmen, but he seemed like a bit of a loner himself. Maybe this lunch arrangement would go smoothly after all.

I picked up my plastic fork and picked at the tuna salad. Two thoughts came to mind; was the salad made from real tuna or was it some unknown animal meat? And why did the school not trust us enough to give us real cutlery? Plastic forks never lasted an entire lunch.

"I'm Richard." I heard the boy across the table say.

_Great_. Just what I was trying to avoid. Now I had to speak to him. I slowly looked up at the boy. He was smiling at me – okay his mouth was more braces than teeth, but it was still a smile nonetheless.

I nodded and said, "Zac."

I lowered my head again and took a bite from the salad. The lunch lady was right. The salad had a funny taste. It was a mixture of odd flavours with a slight hint of tuna aftertaste. Who made this? Was this product even legal? Was it something that the CDC should investigate?

"I'm new here." Richard spoke again.

"Welcome." I said without looking up.

I wasn't really in the mood to talk to him. I just wanted to eat my odd salad and get it over with.

"Thank you." Richard spoke again with a hint of excitement in his voice.

Perhaps it was not too late to take my mystery salad and go sit elsewhere?

"I transferred from Sagebrush." Richard said.

Why did he insist talking to me? Did my poise not tell him I was not interested in making new friends? I already had one friend and one friend is plenty.

"Cool" I said, but I did not look up.

"My dad made us move." Richard said, "I hate moving. We move every few months. He says he's looking for the right place to settle down."

I nodded and continued eating the vomit salad. Perhaps if I drowned out the sound of his voice with my chewing he might stop? It was worth a try.

"Would you like to be friends?" Richard asked, "I don't know anyone here."

I stopped eating and thought a moment. There had to be something wrong with this boy for wanting to befriend someone who gave him the cold shoulder. If he was mentally disturbed we might get along. I hated normal people. Perhaps I should give him the benefit of the doubt?

I slowly raised my head and stared at him while chewing the last bit of salad in my mouth.

"You want to be friends with me?" I asked confused.

"Yes." Richard said, "You're the first person to talk to me since I got here."

"When did you get here?" I asked.

"Two weeks ago." Richard said.

Two weeks ago? How is it possible that nobody spoke to him in two weeks? I grunted a few words at him and I was the one that spoke to him the most? How sad was that? It was even sadder than my friendship with the lunch lady. Maybe the two of us had more in common than I initially thought.

"Really." I said, "I'm sorry. People here can be real jerks."

Richard smiled and said, "So I've noticed, but you seem nice."

I guess I was a nice guy? I've never been told I was a nice guy by anyone except my mom, which didn't count. I am pretty sure she only said that because she was my mother.

"Thanks." I said, "You too."

"You want to come over after school?" He asked excited.

I lowered my head and ate my salad again. Why would I want to go over to his house? And do what? Play dominoes? And then he said the words that I've longed to hear for months.

"I have the new _Zombies from hell_ game." Richard said, "Zombies from hell 3."

I stopped chewing. It was as if every muscle in my body froze with anticipation. A cold shiver ran down my spine. Could he be for real? That game was expensive. And what were the odds of meeting another guy into zombie games? Perhaps it was a prank? I paused for a moment waiting for someone to burst out laughing, but that never happened.

I glanced at him through my hair that hung like curtains before my eyes (I hate when they do that) and smiled at him.

"Sure." I said.

2

Richard lived a few blocks from my house – who would have thought? He lived in a double storey house with his father. It was one of those houses you could bet belonged to a loving family – white picket fence bordering a picture perfect green lawn.

As I could gather from what ramblings made sense Richard's dad was a spokesperson for some company – I did not catch the name; not that I really cared. It could have been Altec or Avon or something starting with an _A_.

Their house was still an array of unpacked boxes, but the living room was the first room to be unpacked. I guess a boy needs his TV and games. They had quite a big TV. It was one of those plasma TVs that had the 3D option.

I sat down on the couch while Richard loaded the game. The house had a strange air about it – as if I've been there before, or perhaps seen it in a dream. It was an odd sensation, but I decided to let it be. Old houses freaked out most people.

Richard handed me a game controller and sat down next to me.

"I just love zombie games." Richard said and smiled at me.

His teeth were extremely crooked beneath the braces making me wonder how long he had them and how bad _were_ his teeth before he got braces.

The front door shut, making Richard jump up. I thought he would jump right out of his skin. I looked over at the front door and noticed a man standing there with a jacket draped across his arm.

"Dad." Richard exclaimed, "You're home early."

His dad stood in silence for a moment and stared down at the boxes lining the hallway.

"I thought you would at least unpack a box or two." His dad said calmly, but annoyed.

"I was," Richard said, "But I made a new friend at school."

This was probably my signal to get up and introduce myself. I bet his dad wants him to be friends with decent kids at school.

I put down the controller, got up and held out my hand.

"I'm Zac." I said, "Nice to meet you, sir."

The man did not even look at my hand. He stood motionlessly staring transfixed into my eyes. I have to admit, it was kind of creepy and awkward.

"Violet eyes." The man murmured to himself.

I figured he was not going to shake my hand, so I lowered it to my side again.

"Yeah." I said, "They're actually blue, but sometimes they look violet in the light."

The man snapped out of his state of fascination and smiled at me – which was even more disturbing than the stare.

"Amazing." He said, "Nice to meet you Zac."

He looked like someone that just won the lottery, but did not want anyone to know. How could anyone be so creepy?

"I'm Richard's dad." He said, "You can call me James."

"Yes, sir." I said.

James glanced into my eyes again and appeared to get lost in them for a moment. He glanced over at Richard who stood behind me and then smiled at me before hastily leaving the room.

That was weird.

"What was that about?" I asked.

I turned to Richard who seemed foolish about his father's manners.

"I have no idea." Richard said, "He normally isn't creepy."

"That's good to know." I said.

_Great. I brought out the creepiness in people_. Perhaps his dad was secretly gay and liked me? I do not want to sound like I am bragging, but I am attractive – sort of... or at least I like to think I am. But then again, why haven't I met a girl that liked me?

"Zac, did you hear what I said?" Richard said.

I did not even notice when he spoke to me. I was trying to figure out the creepiness that was his dad.

"No." I said, "Sorry, what?"

"This is a two player game." Richard said, "I can't play without you."

Why would he buy a two player game when he knew nobody in town? It made no sense. I sat down on the couch again and took a hold of the controller. Richard pressed the _start_ button and the game began. The first stage was in a house. Our characters stood in an empty room, each one holding a weapon. Richard's character had a chainsaw while mine had an axe.

I decided to explore the house in level one and moved my character through a doorway to the left. I noticed something lurking in the shadows. A second later a zombie jumped out. I vigorously pressed buttons on the controller and killed the zombie. Five more zombies jumped out and I took them down with a breeze. When I was certain the room was secure, I glanced over at Richard's side of the split screen. His character was lying on the floor in a pool of blood and the words _You died_ flashed on the screen.

"You died in the first level?" I laughed.

How pathetic! First levels were usually the easiest level in video games. Richard groaned and clicked the _try again_ option.

I clicked on the _enter level 2_ option and my character went outside. A group of a hundred zombies awaited my character outside the house. I directed my character towards the zombies and cut them down by swinging the axe like a madman. The blood splashes seemed so real – the graphics in this game was truly amazing.

While killing several zombies in the game with one blow of my axe, I noticed from the corner of my eye that James stood in the doorway. He had his arms folded across his chest and kept staring at us – as a matter of fact, I think he was staring at me.

If I wanted to get to level 3 of the game, I had to stay focused – no matter how creepy his dad was. I continued killing zombies in the game until only one zombie remained. My character took him down by throwing the axe at him and piercing his skull. The words _successfully completed level 2_ flashed on my side of the split screen.

I heard Richard moan again and glanced at his side of the split screen. A group of zombies were devouring his character and the words _You died_ flashed on the screen.

"You really suck at this." I laughed.

"I know." Richard laughed, "I will get the hang of it."

Richard spotted his dad and looked up. I could tell from the look on Richard's face he was just as baffled as I was.

"Did you offer your friend something to drink?" James asked.

"No, dad." Richard said apologetic.

I glanced over at James and then looked back at Richard. They did not appear to be family. His dad was creepy and Richard was just weird.

"Would you like some soda?" Richard asked.

"Yes please." I replied.

Richard got up and left. I looked over at James. He stood in the doorway a moment longer and then walked over to the couch. He sat down next to me, clasped his hand together on his lap and smiled at me. _What a weird family_.

"What?" I asked with an awkward smile.

"I've been looking for you." James said.

What? What a weird thing to say. Should I jump up and run for my life?

"What do you mean?" I asked uncertain.

James shifted a bit uneasy as if trying to reveal to me that he had homosexual tendencies

"There is no easy way to say this." James said, "I am a Seeker."

A what now?

"I don't follow." I said confused.

"I belong to an ancient organization of Wise Men." James said, "We are called the Seekers of Life and I've been looking for you in this town for two weeks."

What was this man talking about? He sounded like a madman.

"And you wear the mark of the slayer." James said.

"Mark?" I asked concerned.

"Slayers of the undead have purple eyes." James said, "They are born that way. That's how the Seekers know that they've found what they were looking for."

Wow, wait a minute. Back one up please... _slayers of the undead_? I think it was about time I left.

"I think I have to get going." I said uneasy.

"I know this is a lot to take in." James said, "But the undead are all around us. They are not just fictional characters in video games."

James sounded very convinced about what he was telling me, I on the other hand was not convinced. I got up and put down the video controller. James quickly jumped to his feet.

"You cannot run away from your destiny." James said, "You are the chosen one. When the dead rise, a slayer will rise and save us."

All I could think of was getting away from the creep. I could not even think of a good excuse to leave, so just turned around and left.

3

When I got home I took a long shower and tried to wash off the feeling of that creep's eyes on me.

How could anyone be so disillusioned? I mean, I liked the whole zombie genre, but I was not crazy enough to think that the dead _actually_ walked the earth. Okay, fair enough – I have heard that mad cow disease had the same symptoms (fever and uncontrollable rage), but it was just too far-fetched to be real, right?

I got out of the shower and wrapped a towel around my body. I got a glimpse of myself in the mirror and stopped a moment. I scrutinized my appearance in the mirror. I was _not_ imagining it. I was attractive and had a great body. Why did I not have a girlfriend? I liked girls, but none of them at school seemed to care about me. I always thought that girls liked broody, dark and mysterious guys – isn't that why that vampire books sold millions of copies worldwide? What was the name of that book series again? I know it was turned into a series of movies as well. You know what I am talking about – a hundred year old teen vampire who stalks a teenage girl and then there is a whole love triangle between the girl, the vampire and a dog – I mean werewolf. I was not one for vampire stories so it never really grabbed my attention.

I left the bathroom and went into my bedroom. The bedroom was drenched in sunlight most of the afternoon and was usually humid at night. I dropped the towel to the floor, put on a pair of boxer shorts and collapsed onto my bed.

I rolled over onto my back and stared up at the ceiling. It was a nice thought; _I was the chosen one_.

Maybe I was special in a way; I mean how many people do you know with purple eyes? And I do not mean purple contact lenses people wear to rave parties.

I always wanted to be special in some way – not special as in having special needs, but _special_ like being bitten by a radio-active insect and gaining superpowers. _That_ would be cool.

But if I _was_ special, then it would mean the other crazy stuff James said was true as well. _When the dead rise, a slayer will rise and save us?_ Zombies don't really exist, do they? People don't return from the dead, do they? Lazarus and Jesus returned from the dead, but they hardly count as zombies or anything dead and rotting. Those were miracles.

How would someone return from the dead? One moment they are dead and the next they wake up hungry for flesh? What about people who were buried? Would they claw their way out of their graves or will they be stuck in a casket scratching at the lid for all eternity?

My phone buzzed on the night stand and I grabbed it. It was a text message from my friend Jim. He wanted me to come over. It was a school night and I doubt that my mother would have approved me going out after seven.

_What the hell? Why not? I could get some perspective from him._ I could sneak out through the window like kids do in the movies. I replied to Jim's message telling him I was on my way.

I got up, got dressed and sneaked over to the window. I've never sneaked out of the house before, but what the hell. You are only young once. I climbed out through the window and as luck would have it, I slipped and fell. _There goes my stealth mode._

Luckily the bushes down below broke my fall. I got up and dusted myself off before sneaking a peek through the living room window. My mother was still glued to the TV. Her favourite show was on. It was something about two vampire brothers lusting after a girl. Yet another show about hundred year old teen vampires wanting to molest a teen girl. I never saw the appeal, but she loved it. A bomb could go off and she would miss the evacuation protocol to watch her show.

I walked down the street to Jim's house two houses down. When I knocked on the front door his mother opened looking pleasantly surprised to see me.

"Zac." She said with a smile, "What a nice surprise. How have you been?"

"Great, Mrs Smith." I said.

"Jim is down in the basement." She said.

She stepped aside and closed the door once I stepped in the house. I walked down the hallway and went down the stairs to the basement.

Their basement was renovated into a recreational room complete with an entertainment system, dartboard and a pool table. Jim never played darts or pool. He was a gamer like I was.

He sat in front of the TV with his back to me. He was playing a racing game called _Grand Auto Race_. It was his favourite game. He could play it hours on end without taking a break for food or nothing. He would sometimes have a jar to pee in when he played – I once knocked it over by accident. What a mess.

"Hey." I greeted as I walked over to the sofa.

I checked the ground for a jar before sitting down.

"Hey." Jim said without looking up.

He was concentrating on his game. Jim was just as socially awkward as I was. His mother home schooled him. She said that the girls at school would corrupt him. He was a skinny boy with blond hair and glasses – thick glasses which magnified his eyes and made him look like a mole. You'd never think we had anything in common by just looking at us. We grew up together and have been friends forever. We had the same taste in music, games and movies, though I was not sure about girls. I am very interested in girls, but he never showed the slightest interest in girls – or boys for that matter. Very peculiar.

"What's up?" I asked.

"Nothing." Jim said.

He paid more attention to the game than to our conversation.

"What's up with you?" Jim asked, "I haven't seen you in three days."

"Nothing much." I said, "Just school."

"Yeah?" Jim asked.

"There's a new kid at school." I said, "I think we became friends or something."

"Cool." Jim said mundane.

"I went over to his house after school." I said, "His father is weird. He creeps me out. He kept staring at me."

"Yeah?" Jim said, "Maybe he likes young boys."

"That's what I thought at first." I said, "But then he got all weird on me by telling me I was a slayer of the undead."

Jim paused his game and turned to me. This never happens. He never stopped a game before to talk. I was witnessing history in the making. Jim Smith paused a game to talk to me.

"You're a what now?" Jim asked.

"A slayer of the undead." I said uneasy.

Jim started laughing and then his laugh flipped over into an asthma cough. He reached for his inhaler and inhaled two puffs before breathing easily again.

"Like a vampire slayer?" Jim chuckled, "Like that Buffy girl?"

"I don't know." I sighed, "The guy seemed very convinced about what he was talking about."

"Don't tell me you believed him?" Jim asked.

"No." I defended myself, "I don't believe in stuff like that."

"Good." Jim said, "You are already a freak. You will be even more of a freak if you start believing in vampires and stuff."

"It was not _what_ he said," I said, "It was the _way_ he said it. He stared into my eyes completely mesmerized and said my eyes were the sign that I was chosen."

Jim nodded approvingly and said, "You have beautiful eyes, dude."

Jim stared into my eyes as if losing himself in them for a moment.

"Anyway," I continued, "You should have seen him. It was the strangest thing.

"Grownups are weird." Jim said, "That's why I don't want to grow up."

Jim handed me a second controller and then unpaused the game. The words _player 2 has entered_ flashed onto the screen and then I joined Jim in the race.

"What if he was for real?" I asked.

"That would be cool." Jim said

"What if zombies were real too?" I asked.

"That would be cool to an extent." Jim said.

I stared at him as he continued gaming and then I continued gaming as well.

We played the video game for about an hour before I realised what time it was. I had to get home. My mother's back to back episodes of the vampire brothers would end any minute and she might come looking for me.

So I said my goodbye and left Jim to play the game on his own.

The neighbourhood was quiet on the walk back and the full moon was kind of romantic – if only I had a girlfriend to share the walk with, but that is life. And to make things worse, I saw a couple making out under a tree. Why can't they do that up in their room? Why advertise their love for the world to see?

And then without warning, the girl's head fell off. _What the hell?_ I stopped and watched as her head rolled into some nearby bushes. I glanced up at the guy. He was never kissing her. It actually seemed like he was eating her.

I stood dumbfounded by the sight. My jaw was open. I could not believe what I was seeing. The guy was munching on the girl's body he clung to. I suddenly coughed as something – probably a moth – flew into my open mouth. When I regained myself I saw that the guy was looking back over his shoulder at me. His face was covered in blood and flesh hung from his teeth. He was clearly disturbed or something. Perhaps he had a food deficiency of some sort?

He growled, dropped the headless body and turned towards me. _Oh crap_. I have to watch my step with this guy. He is clearly insane; I mean who eats his girlfriend?

"I don't want any trouble." I said.

I held up both my hands cautioning him to stay back, but he kept walking towards me and grunting. Why was he making these sounds? His eyes were black and his skin was pale – he was clearly coming down with a nasty case of something.

"What do you want?" I asked concerned.

The guy kept walking towards me as I took a few steps back.

"I'm not into guys." I warned him, "And I can defend myself."

That was a lie. I have never been in a fight. I think the only confrontation I ever got were in my games. I was not even sure I would know _how_ to defend myself in real life.

The guy growled and chewed on the flesh in his teeth – what a lovely sight. I knew this was not going so well. The guy suddenly sprinted towards me. Instinctively I balled my hand up into a fist and slammed it against the side of his face as he came into range. I do not know how hard I hit him, but his jaw unhinged and tore clean off.

What the hell? What just happened? I looked at my bloody fist for a second. Where did that strength come from? I looked up at the guy. He turned to face me again. With his lower jaw missing his tongue dangled out of the gaping hole, gurgling when he grunted again.

"Seriously, dude." I warned him, "Stay back."

He did not heed my warning and took another step towards me. What was his problem? Why was he not howling in pain? I know I would have if my jaw was missing.

The guy reached out his hands towards me, clawing in the air as he jumped at me. Without thinking I swung my fist at him and it smashed right through his skull. His hands dropped to his sides. Dumbfounded I stared at my fist still inside his head. He hung from my fist like a coat on a hook. What did I just do? I killed someone without thinking about it – without any effort. What was happening to me?

I pulled my fist free from his skull. There was only a gaping wound where the guy's eyes used to be. His body collapsed to the ground. I lifted my fist and examined it. Where did I get the strength to do such a thing? It made no sense and was scaring the hell out of me. Was I a born killer?

I gasped when I realized that I just killed a man in full view of anyone who bothered to look out their window. I looked at the houses around me, hoping that nobody saw what I did. The houses were quiet and curtains were drawn. Nobody seemed to have noticed a growling man being killed by a teenager out in the street. I wiped my hands on my shirt. What should I do? Should I call the police? How would I explain this to the police? They will think I am insane and lock me up.

I still don't know what I was thinking at that moment, but for some reason I decided to drag the two bodies into the bushes. I'd let whoever find them call the police. I checked the windows of the houses around me again as I backed away from the bushes. When I was sure nobody saw me I ran back home.

4

I could not sleep that night. I kept tossing and turning. The images of what happened – of what I did – kept playing in my mind over and over. I killed someone. It was justified since he killed his girlfriend, but still. _I,_ Zac Williams _killed_ someone with my bare hands.

What bothered me was how the guy killed his girlfriend. Why would he be eating her? It was the most macabre thing I had ever seen. What kind of demented person _eats_ another person? I'll tell you what kind of person does that – a zombie. Like in the movies. I can't believe it, but I think Richard's dad might not have been crazy after all. Did zombies actually exist? Whatever I saw the night before sure as hell seemed to be one.

Before school I decided to go to Richard's house. I needed to talk to his dad. I needed answers and his crazy father seemed to know a lot more than he was telling me.

When I opened our front door, I saw that the police cordoned off the street at the house across from our neighbours. _Oh crap_. That meant someone found the bodies. I stood for a moment watching as the coroner loaded two body bags into the van. Detectives were searching the scene for clues as to what might have happened.

I decided not to be too conspicuous and swiftly walked along the sidewalk. I did not even glance at the police when I passed the crime scene and hurried over to Richard's house.

When I got to their house, I found myself running up to the front door and banging on it with my fist.

What was going on with me? _Calm down_. I took a moment to compose myself and then the front door opened. Richard's dad smiled relieved when he saw my worried face.

"I knew you would come back." James said, "Come in."

He stepped aside and I entered the house. He shut the door and led me into the kitchen.

"Richard has already left for school." James said.

"Tell me what you know." I insisted.

James walked over to the kitchen table, pulled up a chair and sat down. He motioned for me to sit and I sat down across the table from him. He seemed calm while I was freaking out. Why was he so calm?

"I killed a man last night." I said horrified.

James just stared at me with his calm expression.

"What you killed last night was not a man." James said, "It was an undead."

"An undead?" I asked confused.

"The walking dead." James said, "Someone that came back from the dead – a zombie."

"A zombie?" I asked half cynical.

The word zombie was a bit far-fetched. Believing in Santa was one thing, but zombies?

"Science fiction had no word to describe the walking dead," James said, "So they invented the word _zombie_ , but the undead is not a new thing. The Seekers of Life along with their slayers have been battling the undead since the death of Christ."

What he was saying was all too much for me to take in. Zombies? Walking dead? Really? It all sounded like make believe monsters.

"A slayer is born into every generation." James said, "And they are our only hope against the undead. When the slayer is born an undead invasion is imminent. I've been looking for you since the day you were born. I've travelled all over the country hoping to find you one day."

I was actually starting to believe what he was telling me. All my life I felt like I was destined for more than just an ordinary life. But how did he know I was born when he started searching for me? How did he know where to find me?

"So I am a slayer?" I asked, "The chosen one?"

"Yes." James said, "When a slayer is in the presence of the undead he has unfathomed powers; speed unlike any other, the strength of ten men and the inability to feel fear. Why do you think you could kill a man with one blow? I watched you. I had to make sure it was not a coincidence. You _are_ the chosen one."

I sat in silence for a moment. I was not sure how to react to such news. I always wanted to be special, but now I was not too sure anymore. Corpses coming back from the dead were a bit too much – sure I was a zombie fan, but I preferred my zombies to be in video games or movies _not_ on my doorstep.

"So zombies are real?" I asked intrigued.

"Do you really think Hollywood came up with something like that?" James asked.

He probably had a valid point. I mean vampire stories were all based on Vlad the Impaler – AKA Vlad the Drinker of Blood, but he was never actually a vampire. He was just an insane Count.

"Does that mean vampires exist?" I asked.

"Don't ask stupid questions." James snapped, "Vampires do _not_ exist. That is just something Hollywood _want_ you to believe exist."

"So what happens now?" I asked, "What do I do? What is expected of me?"

"You do what a slayer does best," James said, "Make sure the dead stay dead. Now that you have killed your first undead, they will be able to sense you. The attacks will become more frequent. These creatures are not the mindless monsters movies want you to believe they are. There are subgenres of the undead. Class one is the highest; they can contemplate and strategize and will be much older than the others – they will come for you and try to stop you. Class two are ones that are turned into the undead by bite. They are mindless drones that kill out of the basic instinct to feed, but can be controlled by the Class one undead."

Okay, I was pretty sure I don't want to be special any more. _Two_ types of undead creatures? What happened to the creatures Hollywood created? Why can't I fight _them_?

"How do I kill them?" I finally asked.

"That's the one part Hollywood got right." James said, "Destroy the brain or remove the head."

_Destroy the brain or remove the head_. What a horrid thought. I don't think I could remove someone's head – even if they were a flesh eating undead monster.

James glanced at his wrist watch.

"You'll be late for school." James said, "If you have any questions or need guidance, my door is always open."

I stood up and pushed the chair back in. My head was overflowing with all the new information. I was not sure my brain could process it all.

"Oh and most important of all," James said, "Don't let any of Class One undead touch you."

Why the hell would I let any of them touch me? I cringe at the _idea_ of dead flesh touching my skin.

I nodded and left his house. The police were still busy on the crime scene further on up the road when I stepped out of James's house.

I hurried to school. I had about ten minutes before the first class started. School was a few blocks away and I could still make it.

When I got to the school I was relieved to see kids still walking around on the school grounds. I had a few minutes to spare. I entered the main building and walked down the busy hallway towards the hallway of lockers. I had to get my books from my locker.

Just as luck would have it, Alex and his group of friends stood in front of my locker. I was not in the mood for him. Perhaps I should just leave the book and tell the teacher that I forgot it at home? It would be easier than confronting him.

I watched as a boy wearing a hoodie made the mistake I made the day before. He walked pass the group of jocks and brushed up against Alex – and Alex did not like it one bit.

"Hey!" Alex called out as the boy walked away, "Faggot! Apologize."

The boy came to a halt, standing with his back towards Alex. This could become interesting. It seemed that the boy was ignoring Alex and this infuriated Alex even more.

"Hey!" one of the other Jocks called out, "Alex is talking to you."

The jock walked over to the boy with the hoody and grabbed him by the arm. He spun the boy around. The boy lifted his head and looked at the jock. The boy's face was as white as snow and his eyes as dark as night. The jock was horrified when he saw this and let go of the boy's arm. Without warning the boy pounced onto the jock and pushed him to the floor. The undead boy took a big bite from the jock's neck as he screamed in pain.

Everyone in the hallway disbursed screaming, except for me and Alex. Alex stood watching – frozen in fear. I felt no fear. It was as if something came over me. I knew exactly what I had to do in that split second of chaos.

I smashed the glass of the fire axe encasing behind me and grabbed the axe. With all the confidence in the world I walked through the sea of running and screaming kids. As I walked over to the undead boy eating the jock, I twirled the axe once or twice – _for dramatic effect of course._

I walked pass Alex – he was still frozen in fear, so I winked at him just to show him that _he_ was the useless one. I felt great in that moment. I showed Alex that he was not as cool as he thought.

I do not know where my axe fighting skills came from, because I sure as hell am not a violent person.

When I was in striking distance of the undead boy still devouring the jock, I swung the axe from down low – hitting him in the face. The impact sent the undead boy flying through the air and he came crashing down into a couple of lockers.

When the undead boy did not get up, I walked over to make sure he would not get up again. I stared down at the corpse at my feet – he had a large gash across his face. He was not getting up again.

I heard a girl scream behind me so I turned around. The jock was back on his feet and charging towards me like an undead buffalo. Man, he was big... and covered in blood. He growled like the man from the night before as he rushed towards me, but my instincts as a slayer kicked in.

I jump-rolled out of the way and he slammed into the lockers. He tumbled to the ground, but got up again. It was only then that I got a good look at him. His eyes were dark and empty of all human emotion. He was definitely infected.

The jock screeched an unworldly scream and charged towards me. I twirled the axe again – for dramatic effect of course and as he came at me I slammed the axe into his neck. The blade sliced through his neck like it was a warm knife slicing through butter. The jock's head toppled to the ground, followed by his lifeless, decapitated body.

When I was sure danger was averted, I lowered my axe and turned around. A large group of pupils had gathered at the end of the hallway. They all stood frozen in fear as they watched the entire ordeal. Alex stood a few feet in front of the group. He still did not move or speak – he wet his pants though.

I decided to hang onto the axe for a while and walked pass Alex – shoving my shoulder up against him as I walked by. He did nothing. He just stood there like a little baby. The crowd reacted differently from what I imagined. I expected cheering and chanting, but they all stood in silence. They all looked like they were afraid of me.

The crowd cleared a path when I approached. I heard some of the girls whispering as I walked by. I was not sure what they were whispering about, but I certainly got the attention of the entire school that day.

I have to admit; it felt good to be noticed for once even if it was for killing two students.

5

The police showed up in no time to cordon off the scene and question witnesses. Though I did not hear the testimonies of the other pupils, I am pretty sure most of them went like _it was the most amazing thing I have ever seen. Zac is a real hero. He saved us from zombies!_

I was question by the police as well. The interrogation was done in the principal's office – in the absence of the principal.

Detective Black sat behind the principal's desk writing down stuff in a file. The chair I sat in was enormous and made me feel small. I did not feel the confidence I felt while killing the undead. I felt uneasy. It was the first time in my life that the police questioned me about anything.

Detective Black finally looked up.

"You're Zac Williams?" He asked in a monotonous voice.

I nodded and said "Yes."

"What can you tell me about what happened?" He asked.

Where to begin? Should I tell him about the whole _slayer of the undead_ thing? He'd probably not believe me anyway, so it would be best to keep it a secret.

"I don't really know." I said and shrugged my shoulders, "One moment everything was fine and the next this boy came out of nowhere and attacked that other guy."

"You're of course referring to Peter Small." Detective Black said, "Did he attack Curtis Swift?"

I nodded, a bit unsure. I did not know them at all.

"I guess." I said.

"You guess?" Detective Black asked.

"I mean I don't know their names." I said, "The little dude attacked the big dude."

Detective Black seemed perplexed and shifted in his seat.

"And how did that happen?" Detective asked, "Curtis Swift is three times bigger than Peter Small."

How should I know? Perhaps the undead have super human strength?

I shook my head and said, "I don't know, but that is what happened."

Detective Black nodded and wrote something down.

"The witnesses say you then grabbed an axe" Detective Black said, "And fought off the attacker."

"Yes." I said.

"And this is the part that does not make sense to me." Detective Black said, "Curtis then got up and attacked you? Why?"

Uhm, how about he wanted to eat me? Would that suffice?

"How should I know?" I said, "Maybe the boy that attacked him had a contagious case of mad cow disease or something."

"Don't get cocky with me." Detective Black warned.

"I'm not getting cocky." I said defensively, "I'm just saying that it could be infectious – some kind of mental infection? I mean who goes around eating other people?"

Detective Black seemed intrigued in what I just said.

"People?" He asked, "You're referring to the bodies we found this morning?"

Damn it! I said too much. There was no way I could explain killing three people in less than twelve hours. I had to think. Think!

"Maybe." I said.

_Maybe_? What was wrong with me? That sounds like a confession. Why not hand him a confession on a silver platter?

"How do you know what happened to them?" Detective Black asked, "Their official cause of death has not been released."

What now? How to I salvage this?

"I live on the block." I said, "I saw when the police removed the bodies."

Detective Black nodded and wrote something down.

"Interesting." He said to himself.

"What is?" I asked concerned.

"I just find it interesting," Detective Black said with a smile, "You were in the vicinity of two crime scenes. It's one hell of a coincidence."

This guy was fishing. He did not have anything on me. He wanted me to come out and say that I killed four people. Well he can go to hell.

"What are you trying to say, detective?" I asked warily, "And why are you questioning me without legal representation or adult supervision? You are breaking the law."

"So is murder." He murmured.

That was the last straw. I saved an entire school from the undead and what do I get? I get accused of murder. I stood up and gave him a scornful look.

"Am I under arrest?" I insisted, "Or am I free to go?"

Detective Black looked at me. He was trying to hide the fact that he was bluffing, but I could tell.

He nodded and said, "You may go. Just stay out of trouble."

I turned and left the office. _Stay out of trouble_? It's a bit difficult when trouble suddenly seemed to find me at every turn.

I shut the door to the principal's office behind me and could see the detective staring at me through the windowpane. I could tell he had already made up his mind about me. He was certain I had something to do with all four deaths.

I turned and walked down the hallway. For some reasons everyone was glancing at me, trying to hide the fact that they were looking. I could hear whispers as well. Some of them whispered, _did you see what he did? What happened to Curtis?_

I decided to ignore everyone. I was the topic of the day, but these topics would soon melted away into vague memories. I just had to let things run their course.

"Hi Zac." I heard a girl's voice to my left.

I turned and was quite amazed to see that it was Michelle. She was one of the prettiest girls in the school. She had a smile that melted the most hardened hearts. I've had a crush on her for years. I never got the courage to talk to her – always afraid I would make a complete fool of myself.

Her hair flowed down her shoulders like curtains and was as black as a raven's wing. She was the definition of perfection.

Why would she speak to me? Why was she _smiling_ at me?

"Michelle?" I asked taken aback

She twirled her hair while she spoke. _I loved it_.

"I just wanted to tell you," Michelle said, "What you did earlier – it was the most heroic thing I have ever seen."

_She thought I was heroic?_ What a confidence booster. I felt a little spark lit up inside me. I felt appreciated, but still could not get any words out to carry on with our conversation.

"The way you protected us." Michelle said softly.

_Say something!_ I told myself, _Say something before she thinks you're a freak again._

"You're welcome." I said.

_You're welcome?_ I must be an idiot. How could that be the only thing I could think of? I just had to get away. I felt foolish and she probably thought I was full of myself. Without saying another word, I rushed off into the boys' changing room.

I shut the changing room door behind me and leaned up against it. I was a complete idiot. _You're welcome_... who says that? I must have sounded extremely arrogant. She would probably never speak to me again – not that it really mattered. There was no way in hell a girl like her would ever be interested in me. Things just never worked out that way.

The sound of tap water running caught my attention and I peeked around the corner at the row of basins.

Alex stood at a basin and spotted me. I quickly ducked behind the wall again. This was the last thing I needed. I was in no mood to be bullied. Perhaps I could slip out the door again?

"Zac." Alex said.

His voice sounded less harsh than always. He sounded somewhat troubled. Why do I always do this to myself? Why should I care about him? He is a bully.

I found myself emerging from behind the wall and walked over to him. It was only then that I noticed he stood in his underwear and tried to get the urine stain out of his pants. This was a sight for sore eyes.

He wore rather odd underwear for a bully – cartoon characters depicted scenes across his buttocks. He sniffed and threw the pants into the next basin. He seemed agitated. He turned to me and I noticed that his junk seemed proportion to his muscles. Either he was stuffing or he did not use steroids like I thought.

He did not look me in the eyes. He sort of stared right by me, seeming ashamed of himself.

"What happened to Curtis?" He asked jolty.

How do I explain this to him?

"Well," I said and hesitated.

_If you tell him, he will have something new to bully you with._ The more I looked at Alex standing there in his underwear, the more vulnerable he appeared. Perhaps I was wrong. A traumatic experience sometimes changed a person.

"He was attacked by a zombie." I said.

The words tasted funny in my mouth. It was not something that came up in every day conversation. I paused for a moment, waiting for him to burst out laughing, but he didn't. Instead he simply shook his head as if he knew that was what happened.

"Figures." Alex said.

Alex did not look like the macho guy he usually portrayed. He seemed lost and confused like a ten year old boy afraid of the monster underneath his bed. He looked at me as if wanting to say something, but then hesitated.

"I'm sorry for being a jerk to you." He said.

The door opened and a scrawny, freckled face boy entered.

"Get out, you freckled freak!" Alex demanded.

The boy darted out the door again without a second thought. Alex seemed annoyed by the interruption, but a second later his face relaxed.

"I don't mean to be a bully." Alex said.

What should I respond to that? I did not know what to say, so I just nodded and stuck my hands in my pockets.

"It's just a front I put up." Alex said.

He could have fooled me. He was one of the meanest boys in school. How did anyone end up so mean? Did his mother not hug him enough? Did she hug him too much? All I knew was that he needed my help.

I picked up his pants and proceeded to dry them underneath the hand dryer. It took a while before the pants were dry and then I handed them to him. He smiled at me like an orphan getting some warm food. Maybe he was not _that_ bad.

We stood there for a moment; staring at each other – Neither one of us knew what to say to the other. He flashed an awkward smile and then left. He was a weird character. I turned around and left the changing room. As soon as I stepped out into the hallway, I could hear the group of popular boys teasing someone and laughing like they were the funniest group of comedians on earth. I hated guys like that. Why did they have to pick on the little guys?

To my surprise, I saw the group of boys were teasing Alex; calling him _Alex Piss-pants._ It took no time at all for him to get a nickname that would stick – and this from the very group he associated himself with.

"You guys, it's not funny." Alex pleaded.

"What?" One boy laughed, "Is the little baby going to wet his pants again?"

They bickered back and forth while Alex tried to maintain the little dignity he had. Was this what I looked like? It was a horrible thing to witness. I had to do something.

I walked up to the group.

"Is there a problem?" I asked casually.

One of the boys looked at me with sheer terror in his eyes. It almost looked like I was threatening him with a chainsaw.

"No." he apologized, "We were just fooling around."

The group of boys cautiously backed away and then hurried down the hallway. I was impressed with myself. Clearly killing two kids in school hallway made me a force to reckon with.

The hallway was empty except for me and Alex. The school sent everyone home after the incident and only a few remained in the hallways.

"Thanks." Alex said foolishly, "I could have handled it."

He glanced at me and then walked away.

_You're welcome._ There I go again. Why do I want to say that to everyone?
6

The empty school building felt heavy. I've never been in the school building on my own. It was kind of creepy. I left the building and stepped outside. There were still a few police officers outside and some onlookers, but most of the people made the most of an off day.

"Hi." Richard said from behind the wall.

I hated it when someone sneaked up on me.

"Hi." I greeted back.

Richard stepped out from behind the wall and seemed a bit paranoid, checking over his shoulder for something or someone.

"Are you alright?" I asked concerned.

"Yes." He said jittery, "I'm fine. I'm just a bit rattled about what happened earlier, you know?"

"Oh." I said.

He was obviously referring to the two undead kids I killed in the school hallway – _that was awesome_. It felt just like a video game.

"What are you going to do the rest of the day?" Richard asked.

"Go home I guess." I said.

I stared up at the sky looking for answers – answers I might never find. Why did this happen? Why now? But the most important question was; did Michelle like me?

"I'll probably watch TV or play some video games." I said.

"Me too." Richard said, "Mind if we walk home together?"

"Not at all." I said with a smile.

Why would I mind? We were heading in the same direction.

We walked down the main steps of the building and then down the street. It was a really nice, summer's day. I just loved summer. The weather made me feel alive.

"So..." Richard said and hesitated, "Those two kids you – uh, how do I put this? The two kids you _killed_ ; what was wrong with them. It looked to me like the one tried to _eat_ the other one."

"They were zombies." I said, "The undead."

How could he live in a house with James and not know about the undead?

"What?" Richard gasped, "You mean like zombies in our video games?"  
"Yes." I said.

"Shut up!" Richard exclaimed, "That is so cool!"

I guess it is kind of cool – if you don't mind the danger of being eaten.

"Yeah," I said, "I guess it is."

"Weren't you scared?" Richard asked.

"No." I said, "It was as if I knew exactly what to do, you know?"

"Like you were chosen?" Richard asked.

What a strange way to put it – almost the same way his dad put it.

I stopped walking and so did Richard. I turned to him. There was something he was not telling me. Why did he act so surprise to hear that I killed two zombies, but then mentioned that I might have been chosen? It made no sense. His father had to have told him _something_.

"That's what your father said." I said prudently.

"My father?" Richard asked confounded.

"I met him briefly the other day." I said, "Remember? I came over to your house?"

Something felt off. I was getting the feeling Richard knew what I was talking about, but was pretending not to know. Why?

"Oh." He said strident, "What else did he say?"

What was Richard getting at? It felt like he wanted me to admit to something he already knew the answer to.

"What do you mean?" I asked titillated.

"What did you talk about when you met him?" Richard asked.

"He told me that zombies were real." I confessed, "That they were not simply monsters from movies."

"Did he?" Richard asked.

He did not sound very surprised. I bet he knew all about my conversation with his dad. Richard turned around and started walking away.

"I've got to go." I said bluntly.

"Wait." I called out.

He seemed a bit upset. I ran up to him and grabbed his arm to pull him back.

"Richard, wait." I said.

His arm was cold to the touch. Confused I stared down at his arm. His skin felt clammy against my palm. I looked up at his eyes – they were dark and completely empty of a soul. His corneas shifted and regained their color.

It was only then that I realized his skin hung from his bones like an oversized blanket. He grinned and then with lightning speed he grabbed me by the throat and pushed me up against a nearby tree.

I clawed at his hands around my neck as he choked me, trying not to suffocate.

"So you are the new slayer?" Richard asked, "I knew if I stuck around James long enough he would expose the new slayer."

I could not concentrate. My head started getting dizzy and throbbed with every heartbeat that pulsated blood through my body. Gasping for air was no use. I could not pry his hands from my neck, so I started clawing at his face and scraped away a large chunk of skin; exposing black, rotten skin.

Oh my word. He was one of the undead. He had to be a Class One.

"The end is coming." Richard said, "I am here to make sure of that."

With those words survival mode kicked in. My mind went blank and serine. I could think clearer and was able to pry his dead claws from my neck. I punched him in his stomach as hard as I could, but he did not budge. This one was strong – almost as strong as me.

He swung his fist at me and I leaped out of the way. I rolled across the lawn and landed on my hands and feet. And then in true hero style, I stretched my one arm out behind me and then slowly looked up – Richard was already gone. I was fast, but he was faster it seemed.

I jumped to my feet and scrutinized my surroundings, but saw no sign of him. I still could not believe it. Mild mannered Richard was one of the undead – a Class one no less. I wondered whether James knew?

7

I could not believe it. Richard was one of the undead. When did he turn? If he was a Class one, he had to be ancient. It made no sense.

I ran down the street in the direction of James' house as fast as I could. When I was about a block away, I saw a couple of police cars parked outside the house. I slowed down, wondering what might be happening.

Detective Black came out through the front door.

_Damn_ I thought, _just what I need_. I wanted to dart behind a bush or something – anything to avoid being seen by him, but it was too late. He spotted me and walked over with his hands resting on his hips. He did not seem very surprised to see me.

"Well, who do we have here?" He asked with a smirk, "Why am I not surprised to run into you at yet another murder scene?"

_Murder?_ Did I hear that correct? Did he just say _murder?_

"What?" I asked confused.

The coroners brought out a body bag and carried it over to the van. From the size of the body inside I could tell it was someone young. Richard? But how? What happened?

"Mister Williams," Detective Black asked suggestively, "Where have you been since we last saw each other?"

"You mean since you saw me an hour ago?" I asked snappy.

I knew what he was trying to do. He was trying to put the blame on me for some reason. Why did he suspect me of being a murderer?

"Don't get canny with me." Detective Black warned, "It seems wherever you go, death is sure to follow."

"What are you implying?" I asked annoyed.

I was not about to let him get to me. I stared at him without budging. I wanted to show him that I was not afraid of him. He did not intimidate me. Detective Black lowered his arms and smiled as if trying to hide the fact that he was defeated.

"Just don't leave town." He said before walking to his car.

_Don't leave town?_ What a cliché. I watched him get into his car and drive away. What was his problem? Did he have a vendetta against me? Why did he suggest I had anything to do with whatever happened here?

"Zac." I heard James's broken voice say behind me.

I turned around and faced James as he stepped out through the front door. His face was stained with dry tears and he seemed completely broken. It _was_ Richard.

"What happened?" I asked horrified.

"They got to Richard." James said snickering, "Probably a Class one. They removed his skin."

His skin? Oh my word! That is so gruesome. Why would anyone do such a thing?

I tried to be brave, but found it hard to hide the fact that I was horrified at the thought of Richard without skin.

Wait a minute... It made sense now. That's why Richard was acting strange. It was not him. It was an undead wearing his skin like a Halloween costume. Poor Richard. Can you imagine all that pain from having your skin removed? It is a violent way to die.

I lowered my head and stared down at the floor, as I figured out what had happened.

"What is it?" James asked, "You're hiding something."

"It came to me." I said, "Wearing Richard's skin."

"What did it want?" James asked concerned.

"It told me that I could not stop the end of days." I replied, "I tried to kill it, but it was too fast."

James gasped and grabbed me by the arms with urgency.

"Did it touch you?" James demanded.

"It had me by the throat at one stage, why?" I asked confused.

James let out a disappointed sigh and let go of my arms.

"What?" I asked worried.

"If a Class one undead touches you," James said defeated, "It gains your memories. That's how it knew where to find you. It gained Richard's memories."

With those words my entire body went cold and numb. I could not concentrate on what James was saying – every word that came out of his mouth sounded muffled. I could only think of one thing; if that creature gained my memories it knew where I lived. It knew about my mother.

I had to get home and fast!

"I've got to go." I gasped.

Without saying another word, I turned around and ran. I ran as fast as I possibly could. I had to get home. I had to protect my mother. I had to stop that horrid creature from doing something unspeakable.

I passed the few houses between James's house and mine and swung open our front gate; nearly breaking it off. I ran up to the house and burst in through the front door. My heart was racing and I struggled to catch my breath. There was no time to waste. I could catch my breath later. I just had to find my mother first.

"Mom!" I called out heaving.

She did not answer. I ran into the living room. It was empty. Where was she? It was her day off. She had to be in the house somewhere. I ran into the dining room, but she was not there either.

"Mom!" I called out again.

I was getting worried. What if something happened to her? What if I was too late? What if that creature murdered my mother in my own house?

I ran into the kitchen and stopped dead in my tracks at the doorway. Richard stood a few feet away and had my mother by the throat. Her legs were dangling a few feet from the ground and she was clenching onto his hand, trying to free herself.

Richard's skin was falling off in bits and pieces; revealing the decaying corpse beneath. What did it want with my mother? I had to be extremely cautious. He was very powerful and could snap her neck with a simple twist of his wrist.

Richard looked over at me and smiled, not that it was much of a smile with all the missing flesh.

"Slayer of the undead." He announced, "So glad you could join us."

"Let her go." I said carefully, "She has nothing to do with this."

Richard shook his head and his left ear fell off.

"I don't think so." Richard said, "As long as her life hangs in my hand I've got your attention."

"What do you want?" I asked.

"I'm giving you an ultimatum." Richard said, "You can kill me and save your mother, or you can save the world."

What the hell did that mean?

Richard's one eyelid hung loosely and he picked at it until it tore off - never loosening his grip around my mother's neck. She seemed terrified. I had to do something. Instantaneously I grabbed a nearby plate and threw it at Richard like a Frisbee. It flew across the room and decapitated him. His grip around my mother's neck loosened and she fell to the ground gasping for air.

I stood watching as James's lifeless body dropped to the floor. I rushed over to my mother and helped her to her feet.

Ominous laughter echoing through the kitchen made me look down. Richard's severed head was laughing as it lay on its side.

"You made your choice." He said, "Now you have to live with the consequences. I am Clairvius."

I felt so angry I could kill him all over again. When he started laughing again I wanted to destroy every part of him.

I walked over to the laughing head and stomped on it, smashing it into smithereens. The laughing stopped and a portentous cloud of black vapour ascended from the skull fragments. My mother and I watched concerned as the vapour ascended towards the ceiling and then disappeared.

What the hell just happened?

8

It might not have been the best idea at the time, but I decided to call the one person who seemed to know a lot about the undead. Despite being in mourning about the loss of his son, James came right over. I covered Richard's remains with a table cloth before James arrived – there was no need for him to see his son die twice in one day.

James came around just before seven. When I opened the door he could see from the expression on my face that something calamitous happened. I really hoped he was strong enough to handle more bad news.

"What happened?" He asked on my doorstep.

I peered at the empty street behind him. Though the street was quiet, I felt it best not to discuss the dead out in the open.

"You'd better step inside." I said.

James entered and I closed the door. I led him to the living room where my mother sat on the couch drinking some chamomile tea. She always said it helped to calm the nerves, but it tasted horrible to me. I could never stomach the taste.

James looked at me perplexed as to why my mother was there. I told her everything before James arrived. I had to. I could not simply dismiss the fact that a semi-decaying corpse tried to kill my mother and then vanished into a cloud of dark vapour. I had to tell her everything I knew.

"She knows." I told James.

He did not seem at ease knowing that she knew, but he sat down on the couch next to her while I sat down on the coffee table. My mom gave me a stern look – she never really liked me sitting on the coffee table, but I paid no attention to her – we had more important things going on.

"He came for my mother." I said.

James did not seem to follow.

"Who?" He asked confused.

"Richard." I said, "Or at least some _thing_ that looked like him."

James shifted uneasy in his seat. I could tell he was worried – it was written all over his face.

"What happened?" James asked.

"Well," I said, "Where to start... I came home and found him with his hand around my mother's throat. He said something about I have to choose whether I save my mother or the world. Then I killed him."

"Is that it?" James asked unconvinced.

"He said _I am Clairvius_ before I killed him." I said, "And then he came back laughing, so I killed him again... and then he released some kind of black vapour."

James pondered for a moment. He looked like a man without answers. I thought he knew everything there was to know about the dead?

"What's wrong?" I asked.

James snapped back to reality and looked at me.

"Nothing." James said, "I was just thinking about what you said. He called himself _Clairvius_?"

I nodded. I really hoped he knew what it meant, but I could see from his demeanour that he had no clue.

"What does it mean?" I asked.

"I'm not sure." James said, "I will have to look into it. The word sounds familiar, but I cannot place it."

"And the black vapour?" I asked, "What do you make of that?"

James shook his head in confusion.

"I am not sure." James said, "It could be nothing. It could be something."

This guy was not much help. One could understand that his son had just died, but still.

"So what happens now?" I asked.

"You go on with your daily life." James said, "There is no need to disrupt your life. The threat has been eliminated – for now."

"You want me to go back to school?" I asked disappointed.

I was not very keen on the idea of school. I wanted the world to drastically change like in the zombie movies. I wanted to start fighting zombies and be on the road. I did not want to go back to school. School was horrible. If I had to choose between a world filled with zombies and school, I would pick the zombies.

"Yes." James said.

"He is right." My mom said.

Great. My mom was taking the side of a total stranger.

_Go to school? Go on with life as if nothing was abnormal?_ How could James expect me to go about my daily life after a corpse tried to kill my mother in our own house?

I lay in bed staring up at the ceiling. Was this something I really wanted? Life was much easier before I knew I was _chosen_ to fight the undead. Why did I have to be the _chosen_ one? Why not some lame kid who plays video games in his spare time – oh, wait. I was that lame kid.

I heard a faint knock at my door and then my mother glanced into my bedroom.

"Honey?" She said softly, "Are you asleep?"

I looked over at the door and shook my head. My mother came in and sat down on the edge of the bed. She had the oddest expression on her face. It was a mixture of fear, gratitude and anxiety. Clearly the corpse attack took its toll on her. I cannot recall ever seeing her like this before.

"Are you alright?" I asked.

She faked a smile, nodded and said, "I'm great."

She tucked my covers in. The last time she tucked me in was when I was about nine or eight. When she was assured that the covers were tucked in tightly she patted me on my chest and let out a sigh.

"You know," She started, "I always knew that you were meant for great things in this world. I just never thought it would be to fight the walking dead."

I could see she was trying her best to stay calm, but it was evident that inside she was a wreck.

"I never thanked you for saving me from that _thing_." She said.

I shook my head. She was my mother. I was not about to let her die. There was no need to thank me. She would have done the same thing.

"Don't mention it." I said.

"But I have to." She insisted, "As a parent you try your best to protect your child. You never expect that a day would come when you are not in control of what happens. That's how I felt. I knew that that thing wanted to kill me and there was not a thing I could do to stop it. The only thing that I could think of was that I needed to protect you from it. I did not expect you to be the one protecting me."

She smiled foolishly and rubbed the back of her neck.

"What I am trying to say," She said, "is that I love you."

She gave me a kiss on my forehead and smiled.

"I love you too, mom." I said and smiled at her.

It was a nice moment. Though I was pretty close to my mother, I could not remember the last time she came to my bedroom and chatted like this.

"I was just surprised at how fast you moved." She said, "I mean, you were never really a sporty kind of kid."

I laughed. She had me there. I shied away from any type of sport. I was too lazy for that. Don't get me wrong, I was not unfit. I would use my dumbbells at home and go for the occasional jog just to keep in shape, but contact sport was never really my thing.

"I was just as surprised." I said, "I never knew I had it in me to move that fast. It all just sort of happened without me giving it a second thought."

She smiled and pushed back some hair behind my left ear. She was clearly proud of me.

"I just want to make sure that you are safe." She said, "I get that you have these new abilities, but you're my son – my only son and I want to protect you for as long as I can."

"You will never lose me." I promised.

"Promise me one thing," She said, "If you see that things get too much to handle, don't be a hero. A dead hero means nothing to anyone."

I nodded. I did not know what to expect, but one thing was certain – I was not about to allow myself to be torn to bits by the living dead.

And besides, I have only seen a handful of zombies. I doubt that all hell would break loose overnight? Maybe this was it? Maybe I was just put here as a precaution? Maybe life would go on as I knew it – give or take the occasional attack from the walking dead. Only time would tell.

She crossed her legs and clasped her hands onto her knee.

"Do you remember that time we went to Disneyland?" She asked.

A smile crept onto my face as I recalled that week. It was probably the best trip we ever had.

"Yes." I said.

"Do you remember which attractions you liked the most?" She asked.

I nodded. Of course I remembered.

"The skeleton Pirates." She said.

"The skeleton Pirates." I agreed.

I was about ten years old when we went to Disneyland and even back then I was fascinated by the living dead. Other kids were scared to death of the skeleton pirates and preferred talking ducks, but not me.

"You made me pose for photos with them." My mother laughed.

I recalled making her pose for a photo with me standing next to the skeleton pirates. It was a fun week.

"It was a fun trip." My mother said.

"Yes it was." I agreed, "I just wish dad could have been there."

There was a moment of silence.

"So do I." She sighed.

9

The following morning I went to school just like James told me to. The neighbourhood was quiet as I walked to school. People were still shocked about the string of deaths that occurred overnight in such a quiet suburban paradise.

Nobody is ready for death – especially if it comes like a thief in the night. Life is a fleeting moment that needs to be cherished.

I passed Mister Black's house on my way to school. He sat on his porch reading the newspaper as always. He was a retired navy-something that spent most of his mornings reading the paper. I never really understood why anyone who _could_ sleep in late _didn't_. It made no sense to me.

I waved at him as I passed and he waved back from behind his paper. I didn't know much about Mister Black, except that his wife passed away a few years back. She came down with some exotic flu while they were on their anniversary trip to South America.

Sometimes I felt sorry for him. He must have felt responsible for her death since he booked the trip and everything.

He coughed violently, making me look up with worry. I watched as he reached for his asthma inhaler in his robe pocket and inhaled a few puffs. I kept staring back over my shoulder at him as I walked – trying to see whether he would survive his asthma attack and then I accidentally bumped into a fellow student on his way to school.

Immediately upon impact with his body, I turned my head and faced him. It was Michael. He gave me a stern look and said, "Watch where you're going."

Michael had always been a bit of a prick – he loved to hear the sound of his own voice and was under the impression the world revolved around him. I usually stayed clear from him and his friends and never made much eye contact, but noticed he seemed off. His forehead was glistening with sweat and his skin was pale – almost like someone who had the flu.

"Hey." I asked concerned, "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine." He said bluntly and walked off.

Like I said – a prick.

I glanced over at James's house as I passed, half expecting Richard to come out. I still could not believe he was gone. One moment he was alive and the next he was dead – well, as dead as one could be after being killed twice.

I wonder how long we would have stayed friends if he didn't try to eat my mother. Oh, well. No use in dwelling on the past. What's done is done. Who is dead is dead.

The rest of the walk to school was a brisk one – like every day. When the building came into sight so did the sea of students loitering outside the building. Everyone had such dread on their faces. Why were we being forced to go to school? Nobody liked school except the brainy nerds. If I were president I would make school optional.

A girl parking her bike in the bike stand to my left coughed twice and wiped her forehead. I noticed that her forehead seemed sweaty. Another one? Was there a bug going round? I hope not. I hate getting sick.

Needless to say, I steered off into the other direction and avoided contamination from the sickly girl. I entered the school building and walked over to my locker. Some of the students stepped aside and stared at me. Some of them pointed and whispered. The events of yesterday were still fresh in everyone's mind.

I stepped over a red stain in the middle of the hallway which was a cruel reminder of the massacre that happened. Why did the janitor not clean it thoroughly? It was typical of that lazy bum of a janitor.

I took a deep breath and tried to ignore the fact that I could feel everyone's eyes piercing into my flesh. I unlocked my locker and as I opened it, I heard a familiar voice behind me.

"Zac." Michelle said softly.

It was the first time I actually felt my heart stop – as if it needed to catch its breath. That warm fuzzy feeling you get when you are really excited, or are just about to go downhill on a rollercoaster ride – that feeling took over every part of my body as I turned to face her.

She was breathtakingly beautiful with her striking eyes and hair flowing down like waterfalls. I still could not understand why she would want to be seen talking to me.

"Hi." I said with a foolish smile.

"I didn't think I'd see you here today." She said.

I was mesmerized by her succulent lips as she spoke. What I would not give to taste one kiss from her lips.

I snapped out of my daze and foolishly ran my fingers through my hair.

"Why?" I asked, "It's not like I committed a crime. I stopped two mentally unstable bullies."

Wait, what? Did that just come out of my mouth? Was that the best way I could describe what happened? What was wrong with me? She clearly had an effect on my brain.

"The way you reacted was pretty amazing." Michelle said with a smile.

I smiled back at her, not knowing what to say. We stood staring and smiling at each other for a moment and then she broke the silence.

"Can I walk you to your class?" She asked.

I was completely flabbergasted. _Walk? With me?_

"Sure." I said.

"What class are you going to?" Michelle asked.

"Yes please." I said.

What the hell was that? "Yes please"? That made no sense. What was wrong with me? My head felt all mumbled and confused and my tongue felt too heavy to say the words I wanted to say.

Michelle giggled and shifted her backpack on her shoulder.

"I mean biology." I quickly said.

Nice save. I think I salvaged some dignity.

Michelle then did something I never expected – she hooked her arm into mine and escorted me down the hallway. It felt nice. I felt like part of the high school society for once. It did not matter that most of the students still stared at me and whispered. I was in heaven. I had the most beautiful girl in the school by my side.

Someone to my left coughed in our direction, but I hardly noticed them. All I could think of was the fact that Michelle was walking with me.

As we walked I glanced at her from the corner of my eye – trying not to be conspicuous about the fact that I still could not believe what was happening. Michelle seemed proud to be walking down the hallway with me. She was smiling – not a smirk about being the most beautiful girl, but a smile about being happy – or even in love.

Perhaps I could take her out for coffee or a movie some time? I doubt that she would say no. She was clearly into me for some reason. Maybe she was an adrenaline junkie and I was her new fix? I did not really care what her motive was.

We got to the classroom door and she stopped.

"Here we are." She said with a smile.

She unhooked her arm from mine and it felt almost like I lost a fraction of my body heat.

"Thank you." I said and smiled.

"So, I'll see you later?" She asked.

"Definitely." I said, "I was thinking that if you weren't doing anything that we could go out some evening?"

"That would be great." She said

My heart was racing and my chest felt too small for my lungs to get sufficient oxygen. I could not believe the words came out correctly from my mouth and that she agreed to go out with me! Could this be happening? I just did not want to wake up in my bed having it all be a dream. That would suck royally.

"Great." I gasped.

Why did I gasp? Now she is going to think I am a freak. One moment I am confident and the next I am a gasping freak.

She smiled and walked away. She even looked back over her shoulder and smiled. She clearly did not think I was a freak – or she had a thing for freaks?

I should really stop putting myself down like this.

Life was good.
10

"Life is not good." Mr Gibson said.

He was our biology teacher and was always preaching about how there was no real meaning to life except it all being chance. _It was per chance that humans evolved. It was per chance that the universe existed._

He paced up and down in front of the blackboard with his hands behind his back and his glasses on the tip of his nose.

"Life is a series of mistakes and chances." Mr Gibson continued, "There is no reason for all of it. There is no reason apes evolved into humans. It just _happened_."

Somewhere in the back of the class someone coughed and sniffed.

"Whoever is sick; please desist from making those noises." Mr Gibson insisted, "Try and keep your germs to yourself."

The person coughed once more and then was silent. I looked at the faces around me in search of the person who coughed, but could not find the culprit. He or she was clearly hiding their cough from the teacher from hell.

Mr Gibson continued with his negative explanation about life as I drifted away into my thoughts about Michelle. She was so lovely. She was picturesque. Were we a couple? Maybe calling ourselves a couple was jumping the gun. She was just intrigued with me – not in love with me.

I heard a panicking voice behind me and I snapped back to reality.

"Hey, are you okay?" Someone behind me asked worried.

I looked over my shoulder and saw a girl standing next to a boy whom rested his head on his arms. The boy was panting heavily. The girl laid her hand on his back.

"You're cold." She said.

The girl looked up at the teacher and said, "I think we need help over here."

Mr Gibson sighed at the interruption and walked over.

"What does he want?" Mr Gibson asked annoyed.

"I think he's struggling to breathe." The girl said.

The girl stepped aside as Mr Gibson approached. He stopped and looked down at the boy.

"What's wrong?" Mr Gibson asked.

The boy did not respond. He kept his head burrowed in his folded arms, breathing heavily. His breathing increased rapidly and he started shaking from head to toe. Something was definitely wrong. I stood up and assessed the situation as well as the classroom. There were four windows to my left, the classroom door to my right, a Bunsen burner at the front of the class and jars of foetuses on a shelf in the back.

"Mr Gibson." I said cautiously, "Be careful."

"Trust me." Mr Gibson said.

Mr Gibson looked up and flashed a proud smirk at me.

"I am always careful around sick people." Mr Gibson said, "Sit down and be quiet or I will give you an 'F' for _flunked_."

What an ass. Whatever was coming, he deserved it.

Mr Gibson turned his attention to the boy again.

"Boy." He insisted.

"Timothy." Someone corrected Mr Gibson.

How could he not know the names of his students?

"Whatever." Mr Gibson said, "Timothy, get up. If you are sick you have to go to the nurse's office."

Timothy's breathing stopped all together and then, so did the shaking. He was motionless. Mr Gibson reached out and shook Timothy by the shoulder. Timothy shook like a rag doll.

"Is he dead?" Someone gasped.

"I hope not." Mr Gibson said sceptically, "I don't want a decaying boy in my classroom."

Timothy's head moved and then he looked up at Mr Gibson. His eyes were as dark as night and he grinned a mouth full of black teeth. Mr Gibson retracted his arm and with a swift movement, Timothy jumped up from his seat and pounced onto Mr Gibson.

Mr Gibson as well as the rest of the students screamed as Timothy wrestled him to the ground and took a giant bite out of his neck. I cringed when I saw the flesh tear away like elastic and snap while Timothy munched away.

I was torn between stopping the undead and letting the teacher get what was coming to him. It was only when I saw the other students running for the door that I realized what was happening. I glanced up and saw that a girl got tackled by another infected student as soon as she stepped out of the classroom. Screams echoed out in the hallway. Timothy was not an isolated incident.

My breathing slowed down to a steady pace and my sights transfixed upon Timothy chomping away on the teacher from hell. Timothy stopped abruptly and looked up at me like an animal protecting its food.

He growled at me and it was clear that he was no longer human. Mr Gibson started twitching beneath Timothy and rolled over onto his stomach. His limbs contorted and he got to his feet. His face was smeared with blood and completely vacant of any human emotions.

I had to act fast or I would be their next meal. I spun around and ran towards the front of the class; grabbed the Bunsen burner and tossed it towards the jars of foetuses behind the two infected. The Bunsen burner crashed into a couple of jars shattering them and instantaneously setting alight the alcohol inside. The flames engulfed Mr Gibson and Timothy, but they did not scream in pain or even twitch.

Mr Gibson slowly inched closer to me and as he gnarled his mouth, I saw flames washing around inside his mouth – burning his tongue and gums. He let out a devilish screech and then collapsed to the floor. Timothy was down on his hands and knees, crawling towards me while he clawed at his flaming face. He too finally collapsed and stopped moving while a duvet of flames covered them.

"What the hell?" I asked myself

What was going on? I heard dozens of screams out in the hallway. Maybe it wasn't the flu, but it was an infection of the undead?

_Michelle!_ I gasped; _I have to find her before it's too late!_

Just my luck; the day a girl finally notices me and all hell breaks loose. Where to start looking for her?

I stared at the two charcoaling bodies a moment longer to ensure they weren't about to get up again and then walked over to the classroom door.

I peeked out into the hallway. There were blood smears everywhere and trampled students lying scattered along the hallway. The infection spread fast through the school and who knows how far. The only thing that mattered was finding Michelle.

I stepped out into the hallway, stepped over a pool of blood and made my way to the left of the hallway. The building was quiet, except for the occasional scream of horror in the distance. Hopefully most of the students got out before they got infected – what if they got out _after_ being infected? We could have a pandemic on our hands!

I kept as close as possible to the wall as I walked down the hallway.

"Michelle?" I whispered.

There was no answer. She was probably hiding somewhere. I just had to find her.

One of the lights overhead flickered, making me look up. I was horrified to see blood smears up against the ceiling. What the hell happened here? Was someone dragged across the ceiling?

The light flickered and then went out completely.

_Just stay calm_ , I told myself. I cautiously passed a boy lying motionlessly against the wall. His hands were stretched out in front of him as if he was clenching to the floorboards when he was attacked.

I continued down the hallway towards the girls restrooms.

"Michelle?" I whispered again, this time a bit louder.

Rapidly and without warning the boy's one arm snatched me by the ankle and he growled at me. I tugged my leg, trying to free myself from his grip, but he had a powerful grasp.

"Let go!" I yelled at him.

I kicked him in the face and his grip loosened. I stumbled back, but kept my sights on him. The boy might have been dead, but he was not staying down. He slowly got up and I saw that his chest was just one big cavity. There were no ribs or internal organs in sight. Blood oozed down from the wound onto his pants as he staggered towards me.

Seriously? Why can't you stay down? I don't have time for this. I have to find Michelle.

The boy's cavity heaved as if he was still breathing. He struggled the last few feet towards me and that was when I had enough. I balled my hand into a fist and hit him right in the centre of his face, pulverising the skull. My fist went right through the skull and into his warm brain. I was a bit shocked at the velocity of my punch and twisted my hand a bit. The brain matter squashed in between my fingers. It was probably the most disgusting feeling ever.

I pulled my fist free from his skull and he buckled to the floor. There was no way he was getting up again.

I stared down at the bits of brain still clinging to my hand. I just loved how powerful I was. It was amazing. _I_ was awesome.

I wiped my hand on the boy's shirt and then continued down the hallway. I had to be more careful. Who knew how many of the infected were still in the building. I kept to the wall again and was closing in on the girls' restroom.

When I got to the restroom, I halted outside the door. Should I go in? Would she be in there? Boys weren't really allowed in the girls' restroom – but given the circumstances I was certain the school could make an exception.

I slowly pushed open the door but a crack.

"Michelle?" I whispered as I peeked inside.

The restroom seemed abandoned.

"Zac." I head Michelle whisper behind me.

I spun around and was relieved to see her still in one piece. I grabbed her, pulled her closer and embraced her tightly. I was so glad that nothing happened to her. I was hugging her for what felt like an hour and then I realized that we could not stand around. We had to get out of the school.

"What is happening?" Michelle asked hushed.

"The dead are rising." I whispered.

She seemed shocked, but nodded her head trying to comprehend what was happening. I could see that she terrified, so I reached out and took her hand. Her skin was as soft as a rose petal. I had to protect her at all costs.

"Come on." I said, "We're getting out of here."

"Where are we going?" She whispered.
11

The world outside the school building was in devastation. Severed body parts lay scattered across the parking area. To the left a car stood crashed into a tree. It only took a few seconds for all hell to break out. The infection spread incredibly fast. Those who weren't eaten alive and screaming ran for their lives while the dead rose from the ashes of the abyss.

Michelle and I stood in the main doorway of the school with our hands intertwined. Neither one of us could believe the desolation of our once peaceful neighbourhood. It seemed that the infection had spread throughout the entire town. Was there still a safe place left to go to?

All was quiet... too quiet. Every now and then a distant scream or siren would break the silence momentarily.

"I have to get to my mom." I said.

Michelle nodded, but kept staring at the scattered limbs in the parking area.

"How about you?" I asked, "What about your parents?"

"My mom is on a business trip." Michelle said, "And I haven't seen my dad in years. He went out for a pack of cigarettes and never came back. I don't know whether he is alive or not and I really don't care."  
Michelle was damaged goods. She was not as perfect as she appeared – which made her even more beautiful. Flaws were what made a person unique.

"How far is it to your house?" Michelle asked.

"A couple of blocks." I said

"Then let's get going." Michelle said.

We made our way across the parking area, taking care not to step on any limbs or blood pools. It was the most macabre maize I've ever been in. As we walked, I noticed that the fingers on a severed hand were twitching. Could it be possible that the limbs were still alive? Or rather undead?

Could be? If the body it was severed from was one of the undead, I guess the limbs could still have some life in them? Nothing seemed too crazy anymore.

We walked down the street, keeping watch as we walked. One never knows where the undead could be hiding.

We passed a house and I saw a Dalmatian munching on a severed human foot. I was not sure which thought was scarier; the fact that the dog might be eating its owner or a complete stranger.

The dog did not notice us at first. It was too devoted to the fresh flesh and the sounds of the bone crunching beneath its teeth.

I motioned for Michelle not to make a sound as we tiptoed pass the dog. I held my breath and tried not to make a peep, keeping my sights on the dog as we passed.

Once we cleared the house with the dog, we approached the end of the street and turned left towards my house.

As soon as we turned into the street, we stopped dead in our tracks. The street was filled with infected people just wandering up and down without purpose.

I grabbed Michelle by the arm and we ducked behind a parked car. We both grasped the severity of the situation. We could not back down. I had to save my mother.

"Is there another way round?" Michelle whispered.

No. This was the only way to my house from school. We would have to somehow make it by them without being detected.

"No." I whispered.

Michelle let out a sigh of distraught and scrutinized our surroundings. I peeked around the back of the car and assessed the street. Some of the infected were still feeding on human body parts they tore from the uninfected.

I even spotted an infected woman eating a new-born baby like it was a corncob.

This was a very dangerous situation. I might be fast, but Michelle was not and I was not about to let something happen to her – I mean, come on! We just started dating. Were we dating? I was not sure, but now was not the time to ask her about it.

"So what are we going to do?" Michelle asked in a hushed tone.

What did she want me to answer? I was not sure what we were going to do. Should we just turn around and abandon my mother? Should we risk getting to my house and finding that she was already infected?

"Zac?" Michelle whispered.

I looked at her and she motioned with her eyes for me to look down. I looked down and only then realized that I had crushed the bumper of the car in my clenched hand. The stress of the situation clearly brought out my strength.

I slowly let go of the bumper and stared at the imprint my hand left on it. Were there limits to my strength and what were they?

I glanced up at Michelle and got lost in her eyes for a moment. I had to test my strength for her sake. If I wanted her to get through this alive, I would simply have to have faith in myself.

I took a deep breath and pulled the bumper free from the car – it tore off like a piece of tape.

"Wait here." I whispered.

"What are you doing?" Michelle murmured persistently, "It's not safe."

I knew that I would not be able to convince her that I knew what I was doing – I myself was not sure whether I knew what I was doing. Both of us would just have to see first-hand what I was capable of.

I stood up and held the bumper over my shoulder like a bat. I stepped out from behind the car and walked towards the first unsuspecting corpse. It was standing with its back to me and I could not tell whether it used to be a man or a woman when it was alive.

Its spine was crooked and its clothes covered in blood. I walked up to it, swung the bumper at it and bashed its head to a pulp. As soon as the lifeless corpse fell to the ground, at least four others turned around and faced me. These were the faces of people I knew since I was a boy. Some of them lived on my street. Some of them went to school with me. But they were not human anymore.

I tightened my grip on the bumper and swung it at the first oncoming corpse. The impact of the bumper completely decapitated the head, but there was no time to marvel at my accomplishment.

I noticed more and more corpses were approaching from further on up the street.

I counted at least sixty corpses making their way to us. It would be a mistake to try and take on all of them.

I quickly assessed the area around me; Michelle was hiding behind the parked sedan, a tree stood a few feet away to my left and then there were about sixty corpses between us and my house.

"Michelle!" I called out.

I kept my sights on the approaching corpses and tried to keep my confident poise – hoping it might intimidate them (which it didn't).

"Yes?" Michelle called out.

"Are we dating?" I called back.

"What?" Michelle yelled confused.

"Are we dating?" I called out again.

"I hardly think this is the time to discuss this!" She called back.

I swung the bumper at another corpse, slicing its head in half just above the ear.

"Just answer the question!" I called back.

"If we survive this," Michelle called out, "Then yes. I would like to date you."

Those were the words I've been longing to hear all my life. Finally a girl was showing interest in me!

Another corpse approached and I stabbed the bumper straight through its skull, pulled it free and then decapitated another corpse.

"Do you trust me then?" I called out.

"What?" Michelle asked confused.

"Do you trust me?" I called out again.

"Of course!" She called back, "I am here with your, aren't I?"

That was all I needed to hear.

"Climb onto the trunk of the car." I called out.

"What?" Michelle called back, "Are you serious?"

"I thought you trusted me?" I called back

I swung the bumper at another approaching corpse and sliced it in half just above the shoulders. Man, I was getting good with chopping corpses! Who knew I had such incredible strength? I could get used to this!

"Now what?" I head Michelle call out.

I looked back over my shoulder and saw that she sat crouched down on the trunk of the car. I decapitated one last corpse and then turned back towards her.

"Brace yourself!" I called out.

"For what?" She called out worried.

I ran over to the car, balled my right hand into a fist and with all of my might punched the hood of the car. The metal bent beneath my fist, the front tyres burst and the car summersaulted forward, sending Michelle flying through the air. She screamed all the way. I watched in anticipation, not knowing whether my plan would work.

Michelle jetted towards the tree and landed safely in some branches. She was beyond the group of infected. A corpse growled pretty close to me, making me spin around and witnessing just as the car fell onto its roof and crushing the corpse. I stumbled back a few feet. That was a close call!

"Are you insane?" Michelle called out from the tree.

"I just might be!" I called out with a smile. "Climb down and get to my house! Number 402!"

"What about you?" She called back.

I spotted an infected corpse getting a bit too close and I bashed its head in with the bumper.

"I'll meet you there!" I called out, "I just want to cut this group down to size."

I kept my focus on the group of corpses and one by one slayed them as they approached. From the corner of my eye I saw Michelle climbing out of the tree and tiptoeing down the street towards my house.

I raised the bumper and tightened my grip as another forty corpses approached me, growling and drooling blood all the way.

"Bring it on." I warned them.

12

With one mighty blow I slayed the last of the corpses. I stood a moment, trying to catch my breath and glanced down at the array of slain corpses around my feet. They all came at me without warning, but I was able to put every last one of them down.

I wiped the blood off my face. Slaying the undead was a messy job, but someone's got to do it.

I analysed my surroundings to make sure there weren't any looming dangers and then I jogged over to my house. I dropped the bumper on the lawn. It was severely bent out of shape and was of no use to me anymore.

"Mom!" I called out half hushed, "Michelle!"

The front door stood open. It was the last thing I wanted to see. Why was the front door open? I slowed down to a steady pace and walked up to the door with caution.

"Hello?" I said.

There was no answer. I stepped inside the house and looked around. Everything was as it were when I left for school. Nothing seemed out of place.

"Mom?" I called out, "Michelle?"

Why was nobody answering me?

I rushed into the kitchen and found Michelle standing there.

"Michelle?" I asked confused, "Where is my mom?"

"She's not here." Michelle said dreadfully.

"What do you mean?" I asked worried.

"I searched the entire house." Michelle said, "There is no sign of her. There is no sign of a struggle either. I think it is safe to say that she got out before anything happened to her."

What if something happened to her out _there_?

"Why would she just leave?" I asked concerned, "It makes no sense."

I glanced at the clock up against the wall. It was nearly ten AM. Time flies when you're killing the undead.

"I'm sure she is just fine." Michelle said, "We will find her."

Easy for you to be calm. Your mother is out of town. She is not missing during a zombie outbreak.

I nodded and tried to stay calm. There was no use roughing feathers with my new girlfriend... I like the sound of that – _my new girlfriend._ It makes me feel all warm and tingly inside. I could say it over and over and not get tired of saying it. My new girlfriend. My new girlfriend. My new girlfriend. My new girlfriend. My new girlfriend. My new girlfriend... okay, perhaps that is enough. I don't want to wear it out.

"So what do we do now?" Michelle asked.

That was a good question. I was still relevantly new to killing the undead, but I knew that we would need weapons.

"We arm ourselves." I said.

"With what?" Michelle asked.

"Anything you can find." I said, "Knives?"

Knives? Really? Is that the only thing we own that can be used as a weapon? Do we really want the undead to get close enough for us to kill them with a knife? What if we missed? Knives were a stupid idea.

"Knives?" Michelle asked cynical of my suggestion.

"You're right." I said, "Bad idea."

"Don't you have a tool shed with garden shears or something?" Michelle asked.

"No." I said.

We weren't your typical _love-gardening_ family. My mother had no gardening skills and I myself could kill a cactus. So no, we did not have a garden shed filled with gardening tools. It would have been cool though. In this one zombie movie the two guys went into the garden shed and used whatever they found to kill the zombies. They eventually used old vinyl records as Frisbees to kill the zombies. That movie scene stayed with me ever since. It was definitely worthy of winning a _zombie kill award_.

"So how are we going to protect ourselves?" Michelle asked.

Good question...

13

So we ended up going back to the school. A layer of smoke drifted along the ceiling while the smoke alarm beeped for fire-fighters which would probably never come.

Who knew that the school would house the perfect zombie killing weapon of all time?

I turned my head as I broke the glass encasing of the fire axe and then took a firm hold of it with both hands. I looked at it with amazement. _This_ was my weapon of choice. Nothing came close to the sensation of swinging an axe at the undead. It was the most unadulterated piece of weaponry ever made. I could ravel in its perfection all day.

"Can we hurry this along?" Michelle asked.

I stopped admiring the axe for a moment and noticed that she had her one hand covering her mouth and nose. It was only then that I realized that the smoke was getting too heavy to breathe.

"It's probably a good idea." I said.

I motioned towards the main entrance and we walked down the hallway; shielding our mouths and noses from the smoke.

When we got closer to the main entrance, I could make out a figure in the distance. A man emerged like a ghost ship from the smoke. It was Mister Anderson, the gym teacher. He was a gigantic muscular man – or used to be. His face was covered in blood – the parts of his face that were still there. His one eye hung from the socket; dangling on a string of nerves.

The upper part of his right arm was completely stripped of flesh and muscles leaving only the bare bone.

I stopped in my tracks and pushed Michelle behind me. When she noticed Mister Anderson, she gasped in horror. Both of us took a few steps back; backing up against the gymnasium doors.

Mister Anderson was walking at a slow pace, grimacing as he approached. I was really getting fed up with the undead trying to eat us. Why could they not eat each other?

"Zac?" Michelle whispered concerned.

I was not concerned by his size or the fact that he was undead. I was not about to let him harm Michelle in any way. I would protect her at any cost.

"Just stay behind me." I said.

Michelle tugged at my sleeve and I looked around – confounded to see a group of about ten undead students approaching from the other end of the hallway. We were trapped. I could not risk Michelle's life by going either way. I shoved the axe into my belt like it was a holster for a gun.

"Let's go!" I shouted

I grabbed her by the arm and we rushed into the gymnasium. My body was getting a boost of adrenaline, making every muscle in my body move like a well-oiled engine and my mind clear as a cloudless sky.

When we got to the middle of the gymnasium floor, we stopped and I assessed our surroundings. Undead were pouring in through the open doors behind us. To the left stood a pile of discus discs, a few dodgeballs and a few feet away a Manila climbing rope dangled from the ceiling with its other end tied to a post against a wall.

"What are we going to do?" Michelle asked worried.

While she panicked, I had time to completely assess the situation and the best possible way to get out of it alive.

I grabbed her by the arm and we ran over to the heap of discusses. I picked up one and flung it at Mister Anderson. The discus sliced through his chest like a warm knife through butter and decapitated an undead student behind him, but he kept coming.

"Damn." I cussed.

I really thought that would work.

I grabbed a dodgeball and with all my might flung it at his head. The dodgeball smashed into his face and his skull exploded, sending shards of bone and brains splashing in every direction.

Perhaps dodgeballs weren't such a bad idea.

I picked up another dodgeball and flung it at the approaching group of undead students. The ball smashed right through one undead girl's head and pulverised the head of the undead boy behind her.

I could never understand why gym teachers liked dodgeball, but I was actually starting to enjoy dodgeball – that was until I saw another twenty undead students pouring through the gymnasium doors like cockroaches squirming out of a drain.

We had to get out of there while I had the upper hand. I grabbed a discus and flung it in the direction of the wall where the rope was tied. I grabbed the rope dangling next to me and twisted it around my left arm before gripping Michelle firmly around her waist with my right arm.

The discus soared through the air, slicing through the neck of one undead boy and then hit the spot against the wall where the rope was tied – cutting it free.

The counterweights dropped to the floor and our end of the rope elevated us towards the ceiling at an incredible rate. I swung my feet forward and propelled us towards the casement window. When I was sure we were aligned just right, I untangled my arm from the rope and we propelled out through the window.

"Zac!" Michelle screamed in terror.

I held onto her as tightly as I could, as we rocketed through the air and landed in the branches of a nearby tree.

I let out a sigh of relief. For a second I didn't know whether my plan would work. I was just glad that Michelle was alright.

"And we're in a tree again." Michelle said and let out a sigh.

14

I stood beneath the tree and assisted Michelle to climb down to safety. There weren't any undead in sight. We were in the clear for a while.

Michelle dusted herself off and straightened her hair. It was probably the most excitement she had ever had in one day.

"Please warn me the next time you decide to fling me at a tree." Michelle said, "This is the second time you threw me in a tree."

"I'm sorry." I said, "It's not that I plan to. It just happened. I can't explain it. When the adrenaline kicks in, I am a completely different person."

"I can see that." She said.

She looked around her as if expecting trouble, but trouble did not come. Now that we were clear of the school building I was not sure where we could go. I had no idea where my mother was or whether she was still alive. I had to be realistic. I had to ensure our own survival.

I unholstered the axe from my belt and gripped it firmly with both hands. It was too quiet for my liking. Trouble was bound to be close by. If anything happened, I wanted to be ready.

I motioned for Michelle to follow me closely and we walked down the deserted street. A rumble in a nearby bush made me stop caution. I tightened my grip on the axe handle and anticipated one of the undead to jump out.

A cat pounced out and meowed before running away. I was relieved that it was not one of the undead, but then I realized that this was a classic mistake.

Unearthly growling nearby made me spin around. One of the undead had leaped from behind a tree and darted towards Michelle. She let out a horror-filled scream as the undead man reached towards her neck.

Without thinking twice, I swung the axe at the man's neck decapitating him. I froze instantaneously and the axe blade came within a mere inch from Michelle's head. She slowly opened her eyes and stepped back a few feet upon setting eyes on the bloody axe.

I lowered the axe and noticed that the decapitated head was biting at the air as if it would propel itself towards Michelle's flesh. I lifted my foot and stomped the head as hard as I could; smashing it like a rotten tomato.

"Thank you." Michelle said softly.

"Don't mention it." I said

I looked around for any other dangers and wiped my shoe on the cement.

"I think we should get out of here." I said, "It is not safe."

"Where should we go?"

"Anywhere but here." I said.

We started walking down the street again – not knowing where to go. The streets were in ruins and completely deserted. There were no signs of the undead or the living. It was a terrifying experience not knowing whether we were the only uninfected people left.

As we walked, I stole a glance at Michelle. Even covered in blood she was still the most beautiful girl I have ever seen. I was really glad that she was there with me. I was really glad we were dating. I am pretty sure that if the world did not end, we would have ended up going to the prom together.

I could just imagine my mother taking a picture of the two of us before we left for the prom. Would I ever have a prom to go to? Probably not.

I was no use dwelling on what might have been. I had to concentrate on the present. I had Michelle by my side and had to protect her from the world of the undead. We would have to find a safe place for the night and food and perhaps even my mother.

It seems like this was the beginning of the end.

TO BE CONTINUED

