Kevin tightened his tie, laced up his shoes, grabbed his briefcase and headed towards the door. He felt a gentle hand on his shoulder as his hand grabbed the door handle. He turned to see his wife, barely awake, but beautiful as ever; aglow in the early morning light streaming through the windows. “Have a good trip” she said softly as her lips left his. Kevin smiled, “It won’t be long” and headed to the car. It was the last time he’d ever see her.
The tour had ended and all of the students were being shuffled back into their mobile transportation units. The field trip to the moon flag had been a success, but it was time to get back. Jonas peeked through the metal slates of the air duct, waiting, and hoping that his teacher and classmates didn’t realize he was missing. Luckily for him, nobody had enough energy to worry. Once the last MTU was pressurized and set out across the empty moon plain, Jonas was ready to explore.
Nobody thought it would happen again. History had shown us how a brutal leader rises to power and we convinced ourselves we knew better. We criticized the people of the past for their ignorance. “The signs were there,” we’d mock, “how did they not see it?” And yet, here we are. The signs were there. The worst of us helped the Leader while the best of us did nothing. Now, we are powerless; beaten down and unwilling to fight back. We must find new hope and kill the Leader.
The candle flickered from the cold winter breeze. The wind had found its way into the study through a small gap in the log cabin’s exterior walls; however, Jasper barely noticed. Despite the late hour, Jasper was still wearing his outdoor garments, muddied from a hard day of riding. Although Mary wouldn’t be pleased with the state of the floors, the importance of this letter left no time for washing and changing. Huddled over his parchment and quill he worked quickly, but with care. Jasper’s ideas in this letter would shape the course of history and the plan needed to be perfect.
“It was all a dream,” John said as Gillian gasped for air. Her nightmare had been so real. It was their anniversary and the day had been going perfectly. Cards were exchanged, romantic meals were had, then on their way home from their perfect night their car flipped into the ravine. John was stuck inside and Gillian was trying to help but her body was being pulled away; then she woke up. “Here,” John said, grabbing something from the side table, “hopefully this will put a smile on your face.” He handed her a light blue sealed envelope. As Gillian went to open the card she couldn’t help but think she’d heard those words before.
Nobody knows what happened, we only know it started on a Thursday afternoon in East London just over three years ago. It didn’t seem possible. We’d all seen the zombie horror movies, but they got it very wrong. Turns out the undead are faster, smarter, and harder to kill than any of us could have predicted. For those of us that are left, there’s only one solution, an inoculation against this disease. That’s why we’ve gathered in this bunker; about to let a zombie loose on our latest human guinea pig.
The bedroom was completely dark, save for the soft blue light of an iPhone on the side table. The silent setting kept the phone from making a sound, but the screen continued to shine as messages were flooding in. In bed, and completely unaware, Jacob slept on his stomach, face smashed into the pillow. Finally the messages stopped replaced by an incessant knock at the door. Jacob’s body sprang up even though his brain hadn’t caught on to what has happening. He grabbed for his phone and with one eye barely open, saw the thirty-five message notifications. Before he had a chance to open them the bullet found its way through his chest.
The sun crossed the horizon, blanketing the Sowell Farm in a stunning morning glow. It was silent outside. There were no neighbors for miles and since the rooster fell victim to the drought, the usual morning alarm was forever silenced. Seven years. Seven years since the last good rain. What was once an oasis of green trees and golden crops had been replaced with dust. There hadn’t been a drought this bad since great drought of 2028. Technology had come along way, but there are only so many waterless days the world can handle; and when the drought is global there isn’t enough water to go around.
Footsteps echoed through the empty hallway as Dirk Hetly charged towards the door. He was close, but so was whatever they had created. “Why did I have to keep digging?” he thought, as his feet continued to pound against the steel grate floor. Dirk slammed his hand against a large red button, setting off alarm bells and turning the hallway red. The door ahead started closing. If he could get to the door he’d be out of this mess. He’d got the sample he’d need to prove what was going on but he had to make it out the door. With a final burst of energy, Dirk lunged for the closing door but before his foot hit the outdoor ground, the creature had him.
It was the first time since the kids were born that Owen was home alone for more than a couple hours. The first three days of this week long lifestyle were a quick descent into chaos. Making dinner, doing chores, and general hygiene had gone out the window, replaced with ordering in and sweatpants. He’d been living out all the fantasies one has whenever family life gets too stressful. On the fourth day; however, he was ready for his family to come home. Owen turned on the TV, dropped the remote and stood, mouth agape, processing the news alert on the screen.