Eleinas life and the world around her is transorming, but not in a good way. Zombies are rising, nobody knows how they started, but they're multiplying quickly and everyone is in danger. As the zombie population increases Eleina has to leave her step-mothers home and is forced to go on the run with only a stranger to accompany her. After fleaing to the woods Eleina overhears a conversation which convinces her to go back and fight with the small groups of humans remaining, but is it to late?


1. The Begining

I'm awake.

The streetlights outside let out a familiar hum to hide the nights silence, while their pale yellow light creeps round the curtains, creating an eerie glow as it bounces of my dark bedroom walls. I glance at the alarm clock on the table next to my bed, 3.00 am. I must have left my TV on before I feel asleep. The light illuminates the wall next to me, showing the old pictures of me and my parent's aswell as the newer pictures of my new family. I turn over, not wanting to look at their smiling faces as guilt from last night floods back to me. The news is on. 600 more have "gone" since I fell asleep, only 5 hours ago. The numbers are increasing quicker now, they're getting closer aswell. A map of Britain takes up the screen, red indicates the  possible sightings of the "undead". Red specks cover most the country now, however the biggest amounts of colour are still in the most obvious places, Manchester, Birmingham Edinburgh and Glasgow. There's London aswell, but people have given up on it, just a red blotch that started all this. They evacuated it last month, once "there" numbers passed a hundred, and as far as I know no ones been back. There are few red spots surrounding the nearby area. I live in Cambridge, on a small street, in a small house. Lifes almost normal here, if it wasn't for the stories, news and gossip.


The screens changed, its showing faces now, about ten on a page for a few seconds before changing to the next ten. It's become a ritual, to show the faces of those who have "gone" at the end of the night, just after the news. After 3 months I'm still not sure why they do it. Maybe to honour people lifes, or maybe to warn people who they might be find lurking in an quiet alley in the dead of night. Maybe it's both. It's almost over now, the faces of those who have "gone". We call them "gone" instead of dead. They're moving but it's still what they are. Lifeless. Awful. Dangerous. Dead. It's an attempt to respect the people who really are dead, the normal people whose deaths are overshadowed by the horrors that occur everyday. In a way I don't understand why we separate it anymore, those who are dead and those who are gone, but we do, and In a way it makes it easier. People need to be able to separate the faces from who they were.

The familiar tune at the end of the news brings me back to reality. I glance at the alarm clock again, 4,00 am. I should be asleep. The school uniform thrown messily over the chair as I rushed to get changed last night reminds I only have 3 hours till I have to get up. I close my eyes and try to sleep, but to soon it's morning and its going to be a very eventful day.

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