Chapter One

It all started with a cough here, a sneeze there. Pretty soon it was all over the world. There was nothing the CDC could do to stop it. They tried, but getting a cure out in time was never going to happen.

They could try all they wanted, but in the end it just wouldn't happen.

Which is why, today, I'm hiding out in the old house that I grew up in... at least, for thirteen years of my life, up in North Georgia. After that, CPS found me, put me into foster care and there I spent the rest of my teenage years until I was eighteen, taking my little happy ass to college.

A few years later, I was a cop, a proud member of society (I could say different for my father, who I have seen arrested on a number of occasions; I actually had to arrest him once-that man is one strong motherfucker and he really didn't want to be arrested).

Growing up, I was never close to my father. He was always gone or doing something. I was closer to my uncle, who was my only friend for the longest time. I never knew my mother, but I'm guessing I looked like her. I didn't really have anything from my father, besides my eyes and my temper.

But enough about me. Let's get on with this fucking story.

I picked up my rifle, making sure it was loaded before actually going to the window, that was only slightly ajar and sticking the barrel through the small opening. I looked through my scope and saw a small rabbit just minding its own business, hopping for a moment and then stopping, its little ears perked up as if it were looking for something.

Perfect.

Placing my finger on the trigger, I narrowed my eyes only slightly, focusing on my target. Deep breath... in... out... have rhythm... keep calm...

The gunshot rang out, echoing in the trees. Bugs Bunny flopped to the side and I smiled softly, standing up quickly.

I grabbed a small pistol just in case, walking out of the house. I shut the door (I had to learn the hard way not to keep the door open) and hurried over to the small rabbit. It wasn't very much, but for one it would do. It'd be great in the stew. Thank God I started to plant things in the garden.

Grabbing the bunny by the ears, I held it up. It was a cute little thing, and I hated killing things, but nowadays it was all you could do to survive. Sighing quietly, I looked it over before nodding to myself.

"What's up, Doc?" I muttered before looking around and hurrying back to the door. It'd take a while for the creeps to get up in the mountains, but I've seen three or four walking around these past couple days and the fact that they can make it up here without ripping off any limbs has me on edge.

I made it inside and shut the door quickly, locking the deadbolt. I looked at the rabbit again and grimaced to myself.

Great. Now I gotta cut the fucking head off.

[ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ]

My uncle had always been a little tough. He had to grow up in home that always put a little more than enough stress on him. Even when he was young, he had to learn how to fend for himself, and hunting was the way to do it.

"Ease your finger on the trigger." he whispered. "Don't shoot unless you're ready."

I nodded slowly and watched as a deer entered my line of sight. My eyes widened and my uncle became stock still. My hands began to shake and, very quietly, he spoke.

"Deep breath... in... out... have rhythm... keep calm. Remember. Don't squeeze the trigger unless you're-"

Bam.

[ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ]

I picked at my stew, sighing quietly. It was lonely, living here alone. The only things I ever had for comany was the old radio that doesn't like to work anymore. Old photos and memories. They exactly aren't good company at times, but they were there. Other times I would talk to myself. I know that it sounds insane, but what else can you do? Especially if you don't have any books. All you can really do is sleep, hunt, make a woodland friend or two before they scurry off, or even just sing and listen to the echo.

The mountains are beautiful, don't get me wrong. And this view that I have is to die for. I always loved to watch the trees blow in the wind, maybe even just take a nap in the grass. I know that sounds like a Disney move, but that was something I really enjoyed doing as a young girl. To me, grass (at least grass that was fresh and green) was more comfortable than a bed. I had no trouble sleeping out underneath the stars. Although if I did now, I would become dinner for those creep things.

I stood and crossed the room, going over to the calander, marking off another day. It was November 5, 2010. A Friday. I laughed to myself.

"Remember, remember the fifth of November." I smiled softly, standing.

Of course, that smile was cut off when I saw a creep through the window. I grimaced to myself, watching as it shuffled around.

"Fuck me..." I muttered.