Rapture

Jack Nixon is a high schooler in his exam year with bipolar disease and severe depression. He spends each day fighting his own mind and emotions before he destroys himself. He finds a comfort in his best friends and his girlfriend, who support him daily. He always finds himself a burden, but they make his life better.
But as an unthinkable disease spreads through the world and his make believe plans for a zombie apocalypse become a surreal reality, he must push his unstable emotions aside when he, his brother and his two best friends are put in charge of a rag-tag group of survivors, including his girlfriend and her sister, who he has vowed to protect. He must push past the dead, the living and his own to maintain their safety.

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17. The Dust Settles

 Martin Woodhouse sprinted down Hampton. It had been a hell of a day. To be honest, he had been expecting it. But you can never prepare yourself for a crisis. Not fully. The finality of it makes you go into overdrive. Searching for weapons, supplies, anything you can get your hands on without getting killed.

 Which is even more dangerous than it sounds.

 Martin hadn’t let up his speed for a second. Massive and muscular, he always loved rugby in school because practically no one would ever stand up to him. He was always a bit odd, but he had some friends at least. One of them he knew he could always depend on. Would always be there.

 Jack Nixon.

 But he hadn’t seen him since this went down. He had been in Chemistry with him before lunch, trying his best to console him about his father. But when Miss Hammond had tried to attack the crowd of kids in the field and the astroturf, he tried to get people out. But Martin couldn’t see Jack anywhere. Ever since then, he had been running stories, different scenarios inside his head of what might have happened to him.

 Escaped?

 Fought to the death?

 Ripped to shreds?

 Then there was his sister. No one in the Woodhouse family had seen Alexia since all of this went down, and they were beginning to panic. Alexia was the youngest in the family at fourteen, and no one knew, despite her fairly feisty domineer, if she would be able to look after herself.

 Martin suddenly span round when he heard sniper rifle shots coming from the centre of town. The noise rang out through the tightly packed houses of the hampton streets, the waves reflecting off the brick walls.

 He picked up speed. These things reacted to noise, he had worked out that much, but if they hear something, they would use all their senses to find whatever meat they could. Primarily, their sense of smell. Somehow, it was amplified and they could smell fresh blood from fifty metres away, so if any of the freaks come out to find out what the noise was, he was in for a fight.

 He turned right on Pewitt Road and ran up Martin Avenue towards the square of houses at the end of the road. Suddenly, he heard a door open, slamming on a brick wall. He quickly ducked under the brick wall in front of the house, too quick to get a good look at what he was about to face. He held his breath as lumbering footsteps and rattly breathing started to get closer. He looked up, still silent, as the creature bent over the wall, showing it’s grotesque appearance. It’s blood-filled saliva dripped down onto Martin as it sniffed the air. The boils that pulsated on it’s body and the stench of the thing made Martin want to wretch.

 More sniper shots filled the streets again. The creature jerked it’s head up in the direction with a groan and lumbered out of the drive. Martin was safe enough for now, but he could see figures moving about in the other houses as well. He had to move quickly if he wanted to get home. He ran through the middle of the road, keeping an eye on both sides of the road. He reached the square of houses and stopped in horror. Almost every house had zombies sprinting out of the front door and onto the street.One of them fixed their sight on Martin and sniffed the air. Then another. And another.

 “Bugger...”

 He sprinted towards the thin line of creatures. Hr impacted the first one with a thud and it’s snapped it’s neck. He then sprinted through the crowd, using the dead body on his shoulder like a riot shield. More and more of them got smashed down to the ground. Once out of the crowd, he dropped the body and ran for the house. His father, George, flung open the door.

 “Hurry up kid!” He shouted.

 “What does it look like I’m bloody doing!?” Martin snarled back.

 He practically jumped into the house, his dad locking the door behind him. He lay back onto the stone floor, completely exhausted.

 “You okay, son?” George asked, rushing to his side.

 Martin nodded breathlessly shrugged off a bag on his back. George took the bag, beaming, and hugged him.

 “You did good kid.”

 “Thanks George.” Martin replied.

 He lifted himself from the cold stone and walked through the small kitchen into the massive living room. The Woodhouse pets, Guinness the dog and Bilbo the cat, were sleeping soundly on the same bed, completely oblivious to the commotion outside. Martha, Martin’s mother, got up from the sofa and held him tightly.

 “You’re one hell of bloody idiot, going out like that!” She said, pushing him away suddenly.

 “I had to,” Martin replied, “there was no way you or dad could have got through that lot.”
 A protest came from George in the kitchen. “That’s what you think!”

 Martin laughed and went into the kitchen, leaving his mother to watch the news. He examined the wooden barriers they had put on the windows. Hardly enough to hold a horde of them at bay, but thankfully, most of the crowd that he had faced followed the noise of the gun, and the ones that had followed him would give up when they found more meat.

 “How long do you think we can do this?” He asked George abruptly.

 “I thought we could go down to the Cidermill, more defendable.” He replied.

 Martin gave out a small laugh. “You want to fight the whole of Evesham from inside a pub?”

 They then both broke out laughing for a second, then went quiet.

 “Any sign of Lexi or Jack yet?” George asked.

 “No, nothing. Hopefully they’ll stick together though.”

 “Jack doesn’t know Lexi, does he?”

 “Not personally, no. But if I know Jack, he won’t let someone come to harm, let alone a younger girl.”

 George nodded slowly. Then looked up at Martin, who was still staring at the wood

 “Any sign of.. anyone?”

 He looked down at his feet.

 “No. Nothing.”

 
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