Nicholas dreaded each day he awakened to find that the world he was living in hadn't been just a passing nightmare. It had all started with a cough that was going around town. A lot of people had come down with it. Those infected would cough their lungs out, day and night. It spiraled into shudders, fevers, vomiting. Eventually, blood replaced those tears, sweat, and vomit. No doctor could put their finger on it. No doctor could cure it. Then, those proclaimed dead started walking. Nicholas had always heard people wishing for a zombie apocalypse, he had even wanted one himself. He never thought it would come true. It was supposed to be impossible.

Not everyone that got sick rose from the dead. In fact, not everyone that got sick died. There wasn't a known cure for it, you just kind of had to let it run its course. Like a cold, except there were no medicines to ease the symptoms. When Nicholas' mother got sick, he hoped and prayed that she would be one of the few who got better.

It had been long since he and his sister carried his mother to the warehouse not too far into town. Their home had begun to be surrounded by the living dead, and they just weren't safe there anymore. It wouldn't be long, he figured, before they came after them again. They would find them, he knew. He just knew he had to protect his mother and sister.

To say the least, he was terrified. He was actually surprised he had lived so long. He wasn't someone like in the movies. He didn't have perfect aim and martial arts skills. He just knew how to hide. He knew how to run.

The weirdest part was, the zombies (for lack of a better term) didn't even want to eat the people they killed. They just wanted to infect. They wanted more people like them. They didn't need to eat anything to survive. They didn't need anything to survive. They just had the desire to kill.

On a fairly cool morning in autumn, Nicholas woke his ten-year-old sister, Alisa, and handed her his rifle.

"I'm going to look for people," he told her in a soft voice. "People who actually know stuff to survive. Please, stay awake and look out for mom. Alright?"

Alisa had nodded groggily and watched as he left the warehouse.

He felt so guilty, leaving his little sister alone with his ill mother. The guilt and worry gnawed at his stomach, making it twist and turn until he felt like he might puke. The morning seemed to be the only time where none of the zombies could be found. He went door to door, looking through houses that were unlocked and leaving the locked ones untouched. He gathered whatever tools and food he could find. He came to a house that seemed to be falling apart.

The door creaked open slowly, hanging off its hinged. He knocked on it lightly and then quietly called out, "Anyone here? I'm, uh, I'm not a zombie..."