Extraction

When the zombie apocalypse began and the virus broke out, we were left on our own, defended ourselves and stood the best chance of staying alive; the big land masses could have been a mess with the virus mutating as it ran through such large populations but it never really was left out for too long. We were locked up, together, quarantined with such deranging humans that had no ability to reason other than the thoughts of us being food for their starving belly and added nutrients to their malnourished, withering skin which consisted mostly of wobbly bones and virus.

The navy patrolled the school building from outside, big guns and weapons, with the fighter jets in the skies. No-one got in or out once it began - it was either a "total shut-out" or everyone would get infected.

It was supposed to be the most important year of my life, the year I turned sixteen, had fun, made new friends and have a boyfriend that was my dream dude — but nothing of such happened. It was infact the worst of my years of being alive. When we were crampled inside with the infected, dangling down the hope that we weren't also with the virus. We needed survive on our own instincts, strength and ability. The fragile ones never lasted too long, giving up faster than they ought to. And sometimes, even your instincts did no good. Because instincts is that tingling gut feeling that could turn out very wrong. But we knew one thing — it was either get killed or kill. It was that particular wish to survive that we dangled onto with our lives and the gut feeling of never giving up. . .though not all got it, so they gave up. The zombie had no awareness that its prey was living, only that it wanted to consume.

And that was why we became mad humans, madder than the walking deads themselves, feeding off and refueling ourselves with passion to survive and killing before we got to eaten.