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Rated: GC · Short Story · Horror/Scary · #1627611
This is a short story written in 3 parts. This is part 1. This is horror based
I sit down and stare at my hands covered in blood. I feel a sob breaking thru but quickly repress it. I can't let them possibly hear me. I have no idea how many there actually are near me and was in no shape to fight them right now.

I look down at Joe, feeling myself go numb. He's dead, and I am all alone now. I know it's Joe's blood all over me, but can't seem to get up and wash myself off.  Seeing him change, I just wish I had acted earlier, maybe I could have saved him.  He came home and said he had gotten a scratch from some dude who seemed sick.  Just thinking about how the media never said anything about…. Anger and despair overwhelm me and I sit there, staring at the wall that’s covered in blood, Joe’s blood.  Tears trail down my face, leaving marks in the blood that splattered all over.

I finally get up, self-preservation making sure I move quickly. I have to get out of the house, our home, and try to find others who have survived the attacks. After cleaning up, making sure all the blood was off me and no open wounds; I throw some clothes and other supplies into a big duffle bag, pausing at a picture of us together and grab it, check outside and run quickly to my car, my hammer and sword with me. I jump in and take off away from the city.

Driving away, I start thinking about everything before.  I am not even sure what made everything start.  I remember hearing something about people going crazy in the city, but only heard with half am ear.  I never thought it would reach here so I ignored it.  Besides the problems of the “city” weren’t my problem

There was no warning for people to evacuate, just the same stupid comments made by the same stupid fake reporters about how the police are working with the CDC to contain this outbreak.  I was intrigued by the CDC comment, but I was so busy with my life, I never followed through with really looking into this.  And I KNOW there was no comment about scratches or even bites, just people being very vicious.  A bite comment would have gotten my goddamn attention, me being the horror freak before all this.  I never really thought I would ever see this happen though.

Just thinking about the media threw me back into the night before, when I had to do something I never thought I would or even could do.  Everything in me still reacted violently in denial.  Joe’s breathing stuttering that night woke me up.  Even now I am not sure why.  I am usually an extremely heavy sleeper.  He stopped breathing and I sat up, turning on the light and saw he wasn’t breathing.  I picked up the phone to call an ambulance and there was nothing but static.  I remembered staring at it then catching Joe sitting up and looking at me.  I saw deep into his eyes and knew he was gone.  Maybe it was all those movies that saved me, I don’t think I will ever know.  I remembered reaching down and grabbing the hammer we had upstairs as we had been remodeling our house and as he lunged, I swung hard.  I knew that a part of me screamed inside at doing this, but a part of me, the part that wants survival, seemed to take over and force me to swing and save myself.

Pushing those thoughts away, I know I have to concentrate on driving.  I move away from major highways and instead jump onto Route 1, which hopefully will be less traffic and head north. I am not sure where I am going, but it can't be worse than where I came from, can it?

I pass a lot of cars on the side of the road and even more blood inside cars and all over the pavement. There is a traffic jam ahead so I quickly get off at the first street and drive around till I jump on another road going north with less traffic. I can pick up Route 1 later. I wasn’t stopping for them to get me.

Its dark now and I know I need to stop, my eyes are burning. I can't stop though. I grab a soda and chug it, hoping the caffeine keeps me up long enough to get to somewhere somewhat safe. Just enough to rest my eyes...
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