All Nonfiction Bullying Books Academic Author Interviews Celebrity interviews College Articles College Essays Educator of the Year Heroes Interviews Memoir Personal Experience Sports Travel & CultureAll Opinions Bullying Current Events / Politics Discrimination Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking Entertainment / Celebrities Environment Love / Relationships Movies / Music / TV Pop Culture / Trends School / College Social Issues / Civics Spirituality / Religion Sports / Hobbies
- Summer Guide
- College Guide
- Author Interviews
- Celebrity interviews
- College Articles
- College Essays
- Educator of the Year
- Personal Experience
- Travel & Culture
- Current Events / Politics
- Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking
- Entertainment / Celebrities
- Love / Relationships
- Movies / Music / TV
- Pop Culture / Trends
- School / College
- Social Issues / Civics
- Spirituality / Religion
- Sports / Hobbies
- Community Service
- Letters to the Editor
- Pride & Prejudice
- What Matters
Dead and Gone
It’s been five years since the first cases of the outbreak began. Five years of absolute pain for any who survived. Some have been able to take out stakes of land for their own, clearing towns, setting up borders. One such settlement is a small town bordered by rivers on all sides. The residence of this town are twin brothers Hector and Samson. They had blocked off all exits.
Hector had set up a radio, and old military HAM, and was scanning all channels. He had been at it for three days but to no avail. Until on the fourth day, there’s a voice. “Hello? Is there anyone on this channel?”
Hector had a slight delay before he answered.“Yeah! there’s people here! We are running low on food and we desperately need help! Can you help us? There’s two of us, please, can you help?” he yelled.
“Only if you’re able to get out of that town. You’re those fellas in RiverRock right?”
“Yes, that’s us! Please you have to help us!”
“I’m sorry but there’s no way I’m going near that town. The military has ordered a bombing run in 12 hours. I recommend getting the hell out of dodge.”
“Can you pick us anywhere? we blocked off all of the roads.”
“Sorry, unless you can come to us you’re on your own. Our convoy is leaving soon, we’ll wait till after the run to see if you make it.”
“Thank you! We’ll be there.”
Hector got up as fast as he could, he had to tell Samson the news.
“Some dude talked to you on the HAM?” said Samson sleepily.
“Yes! He said we have to get out before we get blown up by a military bombing run.”
“Well, get your stuff and let’s go!”
They grabbed their maps of the town and their equipment.
“We blocked off all exits right?” asked Hector.
“No, we left the north bridge unblocked in case we needed to get out, only problem is we haven’t checked the area out in a week, so I don’t know if it’s clear.”
“Well, we’ll have to take that chance. Let's roll.”
They took three hours getting to the bridge. It was on the other side of town, and they were still a half mile away, still too far to know if the bridge was clear or not. They’d taken two months to clear the city of the dead, and not the cold, unmoving, corpses; but the kind that walk, moan... and feed.
They were almost to the bridge, just one more hill. They suddenly heard a noise from over the hill, then they saw the dead. They both stood there, shocked to the core, their bodies cold as ice. The zombies approached them at an eerily slow rate.
“Oh my god! We have to get out of here!” Hector yelled, grabbing Samson by the arm as he turned to run.
“Hector, we've nowhere to run! We go forward, or we die!” Samson’s words made Hector snap.
“Dude, we’re going to die either way! We aren’t getting out of here, we are either going to be a zombie snack!”
The horde moaned again. Too loud for them to hear the planes, too loud for them to know that the bombing run came early, too loud for them to know they were about to die...