Surviving Solitude Part 1
Today is Sunday, August 18th, 2057. It was daybreak outside, where the autumn sky was a flaxen blue, veiled by the orange leaves nestled in the tree branches of the few trees surrounding the house. The world used to be a better place back then. In fact, it's been three years since the outbreak on June 12th. On that day, I was 29 and working as a PhD medical chemist. I did work with the disease that started the outbreak, in a controlled environment, but it mutated in the lab to be airborne. Even though we took many precautions of containing it, it somehow infected the people that worked with me on it. At first, it was transmitted through saliva and blood, but it then became vaporous and deadly. Everyone I worked with who got it and died, with the exception of me. Zombies do need to eat, as we've observed, but their starvation rate is unfathomably much slower than ours. Which means they don't have to eat a shred of flesh for a few years. They do eat animals, the dead ones, and humans. But exactly how log they can go without eating is a problem we never got to solve.
How I got to where I am, is by surviving with my friends. We lived with Grant, who owned a farm down south the cities, where the others and I came from. I resided from a small village in Orden, called Deton, which was a lumber and livestock village. Chase came from the factory city of Leham, just a little ways north-east of Deton. Regrove, south of Leham, was a fishing town and Nate's hometown. We all met at Lake Frost, on a summer break during high school. Since then, we each have been close to one another. Now, we are all we have left. Leham was now under military control, Deton in ruins, and Regrove was overrun by zombies. The only thing separating us from the outside world was 5km of mountains.
The view from the balcony was of the farm, which grew it's autumn crops. They looked almost ripe enough to harvest. Butternut squash and lettuce as far as the eye can see. Just behind the house was a small barn containing a few cows. We keep the cows to make milk, cheese, and meat when we can.
"You ready to go?" Asked a voice behind me. It was Chase, standing at the doorway. He was a husky with blue eyes outlined by black fur, which held a symmetrical pattern from the left and right sides of his body. He was 6'0, I being 5'8 and the shortest of the group. Chase had on a pair of jeans and some boots. I guess he still hasn't put on his shirt yet. I looked down to my maroon winter coat and light-grey jeans. The coat was open, with my torso exposed and tingling in the cold air. I folded them closed and sighed.
"Yeah," I said nonchalantly, looking to the mountains on the left. Chase walked up next me, elbows on the railing. "Man it's cold out" I said under my breath.
"You can never beat the smell of fresh air, can ya?" He asked, looking at me. His blue eyes searching for an answer.
"It's nice, but I would like scented candles. Especially of vanilla" I said, stretching my arms up into the air. When I was little, I would always get anything vanilla. The scent was sweet and soothing, so soothing I'd get tingles on the back of my head from the pleasurable scent. Unexpectedly, Chase tackled me to the ground, and started wrestling around. I flailed and squirmed, but he had me pinned on my back. Everything was sprawled, even my coat. I should have buttoned it when I had the chance.
As he sat on my stomach, the husky said, "What will happen if someone pins you down like this? Then what will you do?" I stretched my arms up, so he fell forward, and tried to push my leg up, but we was too heavy. "Nice try" He said, his warm breath blowing on the fur on my neck.
"Why don't you try a mint?" I said. He just scoffed and pushed himself off.
"What will happen to you if someone was to jump you? Or even a zombie?" He asked. If I can't defend myself from them, how can I live without them worrying for me. The last thing I want to be is a burden for them. To even cope with food problems, I've been having two meals a day to help slow the depletion rate of our food, especially with five people here.
"You love birds done?" Asked Grant, who walked out to see the commotion. Grant was a lion, with a tan body and fierce brown eyes. His mane fairly short from the summer days, but are now starting to grow. He was well built, with a good posture. Then again, everyone here had fairly good posture. The husky just got up laughing a bit, I following suit but without laughing. We went downstairs to the living room to meet up with everyone else. Nate was resting on a couch talking to Aiden, who was sitting on the fireplace. Aiden was Nate's cousin. Aiden was a bull, and was just a good worker, followed rules and orders, like me. The only difference between him and I, is that I take orders from him, too. When it comes to me for making decisions, I shy out or am stuck trying to decide because I don't want to make a wrong one that affects us in the long run.
"Everyone all set?" Said the bull, looking at everyone. Chase came down with a tight, white t-shirt and a light jacket, making everyone ready. As we left the house, we took a right, across the tomatoes growing, to hunt the denizens of the forest. Grant took the lead, being 6'4 with a flaxen green hoodless jacket, and grey jeans. Behind him was Nate, who was a 5'11 cream ram and had a red windbreaker matched with blue jeans and hiking boots. Aiden followed closely with his blue polo and black beanie. Chase and I were at the end side by side. After a good minute of walking through the thicket of tomato plants, Chase and Aiden swapped places.
"So, Daniel, who do you think is going to get the kill this time?" Normally we would be competitive as of who gets the kill.
"I don't know, but I do know that it won't be you." I said, gently nudging him. He chuckled, then picked a nearby tomato.
"Do you think these are ripe yet?" Asked the bull.
"We gotta wait a few more days." Said Grant. We looked up, and saw that he has stopped.
"What is it?" I said, poking my head over the plants. I saw the river, which was good, because we are near our destination.
"A boat." Said Nate, just as I saw it.
"Be quiet." Said Grant, crouching and walking briskly to the thicket of tall grass in the near by trees. The lion looked very natural when stalking an abstract prey. In the distance, was our hunting shack, where we kept all our bows and arrows for when we do go hunting. The door was open. I felt scared, worried that they would be missing. I readied myself to run, and bolted straight past everyone. Until Grant tripped me, sending me forward and on my chest.
Grant looked at me with bewildered eyes and whispered, "Are you crazy!? What if they are hiding in there?"
"Maybe they know we are here, and they got the weapons to kill us." Said Nate with a saddened tone. He was right. Maybe they knew we are here, and they know exactly where we are. From the tall grass we were at, we saw no movement, but felt like we were watched.