A/N: This is my first story, and I hope you like it. It's about a zombie apocalypse and the only survivor. Or so she thinks. And, yes, Cole is a girl. Review if you want me to continue!
You know how everyone jokes about how cool it would be to live through a zombie apocalypse? Well let me tell you, it's not cool. It's not fun. It's scary. My name is Colette Rosensteel, or Cole for short, and I live in Seattle, or what's left of Seattle.
Six months ago, the government "accidentally" released a virus upon the world through genetically altered birds. The birds escaped the testing facility they were being held in and, through their… leavings… they spread the virus. Anyone that came into physical contact with the leavings extracted the virus. After that, the virus could be spread like a normal cold. In three days, half of the world was infected. In a week, there was no one left. No one left but me.
I've been alone since the virus wiped out half the world's population. I'm not sure if there are any survivors left, but I doubt it. I've been driving around the country in an old Mac truck ever since my family was infected. I reinforced the windows and the windshield so if they do find me, they can't get me. I sleep in the trailer with all the supplies I managed to swipe from all the grocery stores I've come across. I cut a hole through the wall separating the cab and the trailer so I can drive away fast if I need to.
Aside from that, I've got my dad's old sawed off shotgun and enough ammo to supply an army for years. Then I've got the normal survival stuff. I had to leave everything important when I left home. The only thing I could grab when I fled my home was a duffel bag I was going to use when I spent the night at my best friend Seiara's house. That and a picture of my whole family.
It was during one of our few family vacations. My mom and dad are standing with smiles on their faces and sun burnt noses. My baby sister and I are standing in front of them with ice cream dripping down our chins, hers strawberry and mine chocolate. That picture wrapped up an amazing day at the beach. We had built sandcastles and swam in the ocean all day. It had been perfect.
But the days of perfection are far behind me. I know that, no matter how much I hope for it, my parents are gone. My little sister is dead, and none of them are coming back. Ever. I've tried to move past that and get on with my life, however short it may be, but the pain is my only friend. It's always there. That and the constant reminder that it is very possible that I am the only person not infected left on earth. I try not to think about it, because when I do, I get all soul- searchie.
When I get that feeling, I go looking for trouble, and since zombies are a dime a dozen, I normally find it. Once I find them, I shoot them. I try not to think about who they were before they were infected, what their life was like. If I start feeling guilty about ending their miserable existence, I remember that it's a kill or be killed world now. They would rip me to shreds without a second thought if they could. That's why I won't let them. That and the fact that I'm clinging to the hope that somewhere out there, there are more survivors, and if I keep moving, I'll find them.
So I've been driving in my old Mac truck for the past three weeks, ever since I left Los Vegas. Surprise, surprise, no humans. But there were a lot of zombies, at least until I got done with them. I took out about two hundred of them. Then I high- tailed it out of there because they get kinda cranky when you start killing them. That's why I can't stay in one place for very long. I was planning on heading out to Michigan, because I figure the best place to hide a secret government biogenetics lab is way out in the Boonies.
I had been driving for about an hour when I heard something. I had the window open, so at first, I thought it was just the wind. Then I heard it again. It almost sounded like… screaming. The clock on the dash read 12:07. It was too early for the zombies to be roaming. They normally hid during the day, don't ask me why. Determined to investigate, I pulled onto the side of the road and grabbed my shotgun from underneath the seat. After a moment of silence, I heard it again. I was right, it was screaming. I reached for the handle, thinking that killing a few zombies might brighten my day. But, after hearing yet another scream, I paused. It seemed that the screams all came from the same person, a guy by the sound of it. But that's not what made me hesitate. I was so used to the screams of the infected, the bloodcurdling moans and screeches that came from their decaying throats. These screams sounded…. I felt my eyes widen as I jumped out of the truck and ran for the source of the screams. The screams sounded human. But that was impossible. I was the only survivor. Right?