Editor’s Note: Hey! It’s me, Metrica again, here with another Zombie Story. While there was no “Matt, Day One,” I liked this piece more than the first one and decided to publish it here for public reading. Enjoy!
By: Jeffersonian Print Staff
Edited By: Metrica
It’s morning and I still feel a little bit tired, but will be all right for the rest of the day. I woke up and looked out the window and saw about 10 Walkers (Walkers are slow and mostly harmless zombies unless they are in large groups) outside and just decided to go out there and slice their heads off with my katana. I went searching for some more and killed about 20+ Walkers on the way. I already felt spent and need to find more supplies.
I found a gas station about 5 miles away from my house. I searched and searched, but found nothing. Then I left to find a pharmacy. It took me about 10 miles from the gas station to find it. I found some Ibuprofen and took it with me. I also found some different antibiotics. It’s about 2:45 in the afternoon so I will probably keep searching for more food.
I finally found a Wal-Mart and took as much food as I could and a little bit of Dr. Pepper. I also saw a door that said EMPLOYEES ONLY on the front, but it was locked so I couldn’t get in. I finally went back home and it’s about 7:00 in the evening. It’s about time to go inside and barricade the door again. Luckily there weren’t many Walkers on the way.
I hadn’t searched the house yet so I might as well go ahead and search it. While I was searching I found a deck of cards and decided to play some cards until I found some survivors. I was playing 52-card pick-up when suddenly I heard a banging noise in the living room. I checked through the little peephole on my door and it was just a Walker. I decided to cut a bigger hole in the door so I could see if there were any more walkers out there. I cut the hole, but when I was done I was looking straight at the walker’s head.
I grabbed my katana and realized that it was my 49-year-old father. I ran upstairs crying and decided to just leave him be. “My dad.” I said, “ He’s a Walker.” I felt so bad and didn’t even realize that my parents had left when I was still in Albuquerque. I went back downstairs and the door was wide open. “Where is he?” I asked to no one in particular. And all of a sudden I hear a moaning right behind me. I turn around and see him and it felt just like slow motion.
He looked really bloody and he didn’t have an arm. I was so scared that right when I turned around I stabbed him right in the head with my katana. “I guess it was for the best,” I said and went to sleep.